Wash Away
Insanity comes like a quiet tide
Quietly if shrugs its filthy black water
Subtly is smiles as pulls at the sand
Coming as if expected with no hint of slaughter
Softly muttering as it stretches its hand
Insanity comes with its mouth open wide
So slowly it paces
Receding in mazes
A smiling tide has nothing to hide
Sounds stick together as it laps against the stubble
Bubbling up foam around mounds of rubble
So gentle a tide against the side
Of glass eyed faces
And cracked china vases
Lifting dead tentacles and letting them drop
Tossing yellow froth with a gurgling slop
Stirring scum in putrid confusion
Crushing dead flowers in rancid seclusion
A flux that enters with a new proposition
Opens tightening eyes like a sudden intuition
A surge that offers a final answer
Then lances the pupils and fills them with cancer
The anxious burst of imagination
Shoots sparks of color in anticipation
Dried seaweed is consumed by fire as it grows
Soaking weed hisses and continues to decompose
The tide flows
As the water returns to suck
At cold ashes and muck
Bringing carrion crows
Searching for dead animals stuck
From piles of refuse they pluck
Before the advance of the ceaseless waves
Swallows the kelp like dogs depraved
Eating their own excretion
Licking their own secretion
Waves, waves come slithering and creeping
Scuttling waves come quietly sneaking
Beating fervently at wide open eyes
Dead to look at yet not open long
Closing with pain but wet fingers pry
Waves, waves come singing your song
Monotonically low, they're soon to raise
Voices in urgent gasps of self praise
Beating hurriedly with excited cries
Laughing with delight at panicking eyes
Giggling with expectation
Giggling with determination
Racing toward victory
Rushing at weakness
Running at the sickly
Roaring from the bleakness
Laughing, gasping, rasping
With no intent of masking
Their happy task of blasting
Any attempt at dashing
To freedom elusive
To sanity abusive
To death conclusive
Waves, waves wash away
This withered body wallowing
In clouds of its own liquid rot
Scatter the black blanket of flies
That coat its bones and fat
Smother its wet stench
In your swirling eddies
Whisper it will be free
Caress it out to sea.
