The Boat-Keeper Comes

In every mythos there is

Silence

You wish to stop the ringing

In your ears

And by some saving grace you

Find yourself standing

By the old river

Of death 

Its ripples with the 

Whispers

Of anxiety

And the boat-keeper comes

Gliding soundlessly across

And he says

From his perch on the

End of his skiff

“The voices are lying child

Do not

Touch

The water

They will tell you

All the cruel

Bitter

Things about living and 

They want

You to drown”

He turns to look

Over his shoulder

The opposite shore is

Veiled

“There is nothing 

Good here

Truth is an illusion

Go home child

Remember the sweeter things”

You blink

Natural and involuntary

He is gone

The water hisses and

The voices fade away

You turn back

Footprints in 

The black sand

Nothing feels right yet

But the boat-keeper 

He knows

All

Things

And you know

All things will

Come due