Drums

I hear the beating of drums in the distance,

as I float downstream on my wooden raft.

I do not know where they could be coming from.

The night is dark.

The water is a flowing stream of blackness.

There is nothing to be seen.

Yet I am hypnotized by the rhythm.

The drummer is obviously very skilled

at attracting one's attention.

I hear music,

music I love,

yet despise.

I hear words spoken in a foreign tongue.

They are all consonants,

and they wrap around my heart.

In my present state,

I hallucinate the image of my heart,

suspended before my eyes.

It is surrounded by little spikes,

in the form of letters.

I see drops of red

fall in front of my knees.

My heart is being drained

of all emotions.

I watch my love,

my hatred,

my disgust,

my bitterness

splash against the boards of my raft,

seeping into the wood,

staining it with dark redness.

I also see my sadness

pour down in the rainstorm of emotion.

Now empty, I collapse facedown in blood.

My heart drops into the ocean

and sinks to the bottom,

where only the most observant eye

could see it,

hidden beneath all that black liquid.

In the distance,

the drumming continues,

lulling me to sleep.