Unmoving, he sits on the bank

Steadily holding the bait

Hoping to catch many a fish

And his hunger to satiate

They swim shimmering bright

Up from the cold dark deep

Seeking the golden sunlight

And his promised release

A compulsion it is for him

Though he calls it not that

“Being true to myself” is how

He explicitly terms this splat

His inner self he seeks to find

This being his personal respite

Making him feel young and alive

Capable of winning all within sight

Caught by his enticing, candid bait

They eventually lie gasping for breath

After the scorching, blazing sunshine

Has rapidly sapped their strength

Their bones bleached white

Lie discarded by the shore

Flesh picked neat and clean

As he continues to fish some more…

 ~Glowing Embers~

31^st July 2004