The Stygian Lake

Sinners spin beneath the white caps, slugging it out in contrition
Their giant fists make currents
Stirring silt and clouding judgment

Mouths froth and whitewash foams along the coast line
Like white stallions stampeding the beach
Snapping driftwood under hoof
Snorting salt spray

And watching all the while, the Absolved
Who ceased their struggle ages past
By letting hot air leak from their lungs
Whistling through lips and bubbling up hollow spheres out into the firmament

As comes to pass for one and all, both large and small
Souls sink low into the pillowed embrace of shifting sands and ever-after


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