Beneath the icy cascade,
relentless worms do flow,
With intention, 
the tug of existence, 
an insistent undertow,
In the shape of cracking eggs, 
a swirling vortex form,
A piscine tornado, against the currents final storm.

Upstream, 
the gills are flapping in despair,
As the roof of the world is ripped, 
apart, 
a single tear, 
sans oxygen 

Octopi, 
mind spread through every sinewy limb,
Three years of life, a drip, a skim of consciousness, thinned,
Tentacles grasp no more

Submerged at the brink, on the edge of the cascade's might,
In this watery realm, 
the dance with eternal night.
The lantern fish lures its final prey,
before the cataclysmic fury

10/31/2023 SGL Brunswick, ME