The Creak Of The Peak

I thought that they would call her,
The prisoners of the underwater,
With swooping hands
A whirlpool from fire,
Rolling her down
As a tyre.

I thought that they would hear her,
The spirits of the underwater
Granting her voice,
Within the gripping silence
Forming an alliance.

I thought that they would ease her,
The tenderness of the underwater,
Instead of a throttle
Whilst throwing the dottle,
They would talk,
Like Aristotle.

I thought that they would embrace her,
The currents of the underwater
Carrying her far and wild,
Up and down from highs to downs
Offering steady grounds.

I thought that they were with her,
The humming of the underwater
I thought it would rock her,
In its gushing arms
Alike her Mother.

Instead of caressing her,
They have flayed her
Leaving only hollows
In her tortured bones.

She walks the dry lands,
Her skeleton rattles
As she sweeps across,
The lands of battles.
A ghost of memories
She’ll fly above distant skies
In a transparent disguise.

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