ManicWorld Magazine

Where do the fishes 
In the deep lake 
Sleep 
In the dark 
Ominous night

Do they lay awake 
Like you 
And 
Me

Or
Do they freeze
In a nightmare
Of survival 
And 
Belonging 

In 
The entanglement 
Of the ripples 
Caught 
In shrinking 
Pieces of 
The drifting 
Wood 

The metal cans 
Now
Cast aside 
Like 
A forgotten child 
By 
The boisterous after party 
Revellers 
Of 
Last night

Or
By the banks 
Washed ashore