Water is bouncing off a deep canal.
A shadow whispering: “Come inside”
Something dark…Who is hiding in the tide?
Who is singing a sinister chorale?
Now, you’re swimming, taking laps.
Does the water taste so tart?
You’re in a maze, there are no maps.
You were deceived, little bird, from the start.
Does the wondrous path seem enthralling?
Is the gasping disorienting?
Perhaps, the light will find you crawling.
In the shores, lamenting.
Alive and well, the bird was found,
reader be warned, it wasn’t sound.