Sleepless grey found in this hole Finally fallen through into remembrance Reality shakes Pangs strike across the surface Of (once) still, dead waters The colours of decay Luring life inwardly Drowning Turning faces glare and cringe Alternatively Downwardly Thoughts of unborn brooding Fester under the surface Lending unfamiliar, disturbing form And unthinkable (all-too-familiar) function Spin, spin, spin Pray for the bottom And yearn for the edge