The Lake of Depression

I remember as a village member,
I cut a memorable road in the wood…

I remember as a walking wobbler,
Some deep thrill made shrill the route,
Covered by the blackness of Blackwood.

I remember as a faint bystander,
What a dark power had that wild park,
Beware-embraced, making my eyes sharp,
Taking its hideous darkness like a lark.

I remember with a tender temper,
Some river’s ripping ceased my shiver,
I – a thinker, harkened the silent timber,
How the water seduced me to drink her,
Whether I will fall to flaw, following her.

I remember as a deep slumber,
I answered the call, the fanfare, I heard;
The song of the fake stream was a lake,
A lake calling me with its narcotic ache.

I remember as I remember,
As if that freak lake wanted me to keep,
As if that deep lake… made me to leap.

The only I remember as a member of the lake,
As if I cut a memorable road in the wood…

Benyamin Bensalah

24.05.2016

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