Lake Of Souls

Within the barren borderlands between
The sun-battered deserts
And the diamond-cut icicles,
A bestial sea is cut into blackened marble.
Liquid gas, like silver silk, breaks on its obsidian rim,
And phantasmal light gleams from the teeming haze.
Above, the pallid stars shed tears of sick yellow
As the fumes of the frightened sting their eyes.
Dusk reigns heavily, for neither ice nor fire survive,
Here in the Lake of Souls.

Distressed cries weave in helpless chorus,
Disturbed by spectral hissing and resonant rumbling.
Faces surface through the dank air:
Small girls, strong men, kings that melt to peasants,
And wise women that soften into betrayed little boys
With mouths as hard as tigers’ teeth.
People who have walked along blue beaches
And gritty city streets
Reach out to stroke the intangible waters,
Only to scream and withdraw as freezing heat
Burns their fingertips,
Here in the Lake of Souls.

Skin rots under soggy soil,
Useless for keeping secrets,
And bones are ripped apart by tugging roots,
Useless for supporting a Self.
The concrete walls of Earth have tumbled
And the firm mortar has melted,
Forcing stubborn spirits to amend their selfish distancing.
Personalities, souls, stories, and arms
Mingle,
Here in the Lake of Souls.