Am I out of touch?

Out of step?

Out of depth?

How many fathoms down am I in this abyssal trench?

Questions met with silence

Too few swim the waters that I myself reside in

Shying from light, shying from eyes

Hiding on the ocean floor

Pass over me on route to unknown, distant shores

I’m a primordial echo

Trapped in a place where the past comes to settle

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