Swim or Sink

Things look grim and hope begins to fade
as yet another life fire burns out and someone falls;
prey to the tranquility of lifelessness.

So many bodies float on the waves
So many young, so many old.
My dreams are haunted by the cold pale cadavers.

Lifeless and apathetic stares sting my skin
from the eyes of the lost who all drowned in the sea.

The waters are rough on this vast sea.
This sea of depression and the currents of disdain and scorn
These are the waters upon which I float,
with my weathered raft of hopes and dreams is my vessel.

The raft itself is weathered
by each storm and breaker that it has faced.
Made of old fallen trees and driftwood
held together by old rope frayed from end to end.
It isn't much to look at but it's all I have.

The others fell form their sea-riding pedestals,
but I have yet to do so.

Those who do fall have no hope for they don’t know how to swim.
None do from what I’ve heard and seen.
I don’t either.

So I float on hopeing to some higher power,
may there be one,
that I don’t fall or fail.

For any out there who read this remember,
Hold tight and don’t fall,
but incase you do
the water is rising and you’d better learn to swim
Otherwise you are going to sink.