The White Submarine

Sat, 03/26/2016 - 11:58 -- Axis

Black sand, burning my feet

On this island of pestilence I stand

Each step, a searing heat

But only my heart will it brand.

 

Around me, I am surrounded by dead foliate

The bloodstained thorns puncture my body

Of these wounds I cannot recuperate

The healing offered by water is shoddy.

 

A visage of malice is here also

Day and night, the animal feasts on me

However its soul remains hollow

Even so, it may also consume of thee.

 

My heart was consumed long ago

There is an open hole in my chest

Where once I was but mortal, and lo

Now I may not be put to rest.

 

One night I lay awake in agony

My eyes permeated by the blackness of the sky

When right as the mercy of sleep reached me

A hopeful red light was tossed a-high.

 

In the morning I was awoken by the sun

Elated to find my burning pain was gone

Discovering no trial, but that my suffering was done

Looking to the sky, I saw a pink dawn.

 

Across the water I noticed a reflection

By the sun surely, it could be of no other device

Yet within me it stirred a certain affection

And in all my days I had not seen ripples so concise.

 

As the entity approached in the yielding waters

I noticed a sense of wholeness in my chest

A feeling came to me, known only by God's daughters

And a filled hole by my breast.

 

When suddenly with a vivacious elegance

The entity ascended, its clear sheen upheld

A lingering, wonderful display of benevolence

Undoubtedly just as bright in the depths it delved.

 

Before my eyes I beheld

A smooth metal vessel, understanding

Of all my pain it had shelved

And a bond between us banding.

 

On that day I received what I needed

Deep within me, a love was breeded

For that wonderful and understanding white submarine

Made my dead world come alive and come clean.

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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