A world of murky water,
teeming life, bristling phantoms,
snatches of movement;
alert, reactive, antennae twitch;
a glimpse, a rush of spikes,
mud unsettled, obscured in gloom.
Survived, move on, find a small,
soft morsel; twitch, lunge,
devoured, scurry away,
searching… There! Sanctuary;
scramble inside, curl up safe
within spiny armour, and rest.
Stone quakes, water heats,
floor rises, mud bubbles;
stifling, suffocating, risk
a peek through a gap
to a lightening ocean, and pain;
intense, burning, boiling.
Cave roof bursts, vision warps,
ragged breath, unfurl, screaming.
Water gone, world dried,
gleaming colours, blasts of air,
grinding stone; agony, can’t move
from approaching molten river.
A flash of light; afraid,
pain unbearable, the briefest
wonder, the tiniest question.
No pain now, no fear,
just dark, fading… and gone.



© 2015 Scott Kaelen
Featured in DeadVerse: Poetry Volume One

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