Empty Lakes

*This probably the worst poem I've wrote but I am a materialistic bitch and I like the title*

☯ Dedicated to @feelingthesparks for the amazing cover ☯

When we are born,

Red in the face and our voices just a desperate plea,

Our lake is full.

When we open our eyes,

Savouring the array of colours and unanimous cooing,

Our lake is polluted.

When we step tentatively,

edging near to the hidden suffering unbeknownst to us at the time,

Our lake is inhabitable.

When we run head first,

barelling towards the pain, the horrors of this earth,

Our lake begins to dry.

It is only with old age,

eyes crinkled in attempt to shelter our eyes from the pain,

is our lake no longer a lake.

The lake dries after the life monsoons,

leaving no trace it was ever in existence.

No animal can replenish itself from your source.

No water animals rely on you,

You are simply gone.

Only death can refill your source.

Only death.

In the end,
I guess we are all just Empty Lakes.