Upturned black umbrellas float on the silent surf,
Their handles are curling claws of gold
That sinks hooks into my eyes
And latch jagged spurs into my mind.
Their crawling parade slinks across the water
And their limbs reach to stab the sky.
This is the river of despair
That bleeds through my body like a human vein.
I do not know what raises this armada against me,
These ominous ranks that wreath the world in smoke,
These vast fleets amassed against me
That bombards my days with dust and flame.
My defenses wilt in their wake.
These vessels cut open the water
And dismantle my calm.
Let me split their formations and disperse their advance,
Let me ride a wave that can swallow them completely,
Blast away their hulls or topple their sails.
They are spinning shadows that drift in the foam,
A procession of parasols that pull me under
But I will not drown.
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