Past glistening bubbles ascending to the light, her descent carries on,
Chasing after a beguiling, albeit chilly, caress in the deep blue gloom.
Will anyone show her the mellow dawn?
Seeking comfort in the icy palms on her cheeks, she wishes the demons were gone.
But they crawl up her bosom, making her throat a bitter, clogged flume.
Past diminishing bubbles ascending to the light, her descent carries on.
Each daybreak, from her murky heart, galling matters spawn.
Desperate for the elusive reprieve, in her bleak realm she carves out room
For the one who will show her the mellow dawn.
Yet, she is withdrawn;
The dense truth looms.
And her descent carries on.
Like a lone pawn
On a chessboard, salvation from unequivocal doom
Comes only from the one who will show her the mellow dawn.
Luckily there is tranquillity to which she is drawn,
Found in her frigid yet clingy, inky groom
Whose allure ensures her descent carries on
Since there is none who will show her the mellow dawn.