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