A Journal from the last day on earth 20,000 leagues deep

I get
lost in the sound
of sleeping landscapes
no nearer to the world on either side
compass mystery spiral
leads a wandering soul
into the clearing.

Tired and worn hands
build fires to warm beds
below drifting cloud citadels
and aurora figures
moving from the darkness
into the light

The sirens of the deep
envelope the cast iron man
breathing a long kiss
into the air tubes
that keep a tired man moving on.

A witness of restlessness
body convolutions
die back to deep relaxation
in the sense of giving in
to the temptation
or the euphoria of knowing
youre going to die.

a stack of scribbled books
tomes pictorially describing how
a feeling felt when caring
counted as a unconditional feeling
instead of a gesture of human decency.

To be human in the dark
takes a thick skin
and a breathing apparatus
to maybe make it to the end
or fail and stand between two worlds
always looking in.