now as waves,
everything gets so scattered that
all is lost.
dont touch it.
It makes you want more.
all
is waiting
like a lake that hides a monster.
noone has seen that monster yet.
but they know it is there.
that is why it is always so still
and quiet.
but it will be even more quiet
when the monster is dead.
celine charcoal
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lake-3/
