The River & The Monster Poem, by Noveyre, at My poetic side

There's a monster under the river,

under the water,

shown in slivers.

It's teeth like gleaming stones.

And when it opens up it's mouth

I gape at it's charcoal tongue-

the cause of which, therefore,

is of a liar burned and done.

It brought me to its armory,

underneath the algae

so I could see the weaponry,

for cutting and it's cunning.

It told me, with smoky exhaling,

that I should stay right where I'm drowning

curiously conflagrating:

"Is water worse than embers' strangling?"

But I knew the next verse.

There's a river under the monster,

hurtling faster,

than it could surely swim.

And the fire breath it's lies had earned it

could not expel all of the liquid

irrupting into lungs well lit

irrevocably

transfixed

I bring up my palms while in that crypt,

lift them up and myself by extension,

swimming up to the river's silt and knelt then.

I reply beneath blue sky

informing to the nothing-

"The embers tend to strangling

but the water teaches swimming."

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