The Pool of Savages

I watch it. Sleep alone at night, think of it. The pool. The dark depths of sadness penetrate through my soul. Faces in the water, images of a nearing reflection of people I do not know, cannot recognize. Hours I spend alone watching the faces, speaking to them. They beckon me to join them but I cannot. You all think I am insane, off my head, out of it. This is me, my life. The pool of savages. They laugh at me because I cannot join them. I spend time alone with the cool water, staring into the inky blackness to try and find myself in it.

I cry to the faces. They laugh at my futile attempts to join them. I am unable to speak to others, just the faces. They understand me. They know me. I can trust me. The shadows that hide the beastly creatures run through the depths of water. I see an image dart in the far down distant waters. Something savage. The faces tell me not to worry about the creatures. They smile at the withering outline of my face. Somehow I doubt the beauty that is in their eyes.

Join the faces in the water. That is the only thing I hear. Passing bodies, images of a time that left me a long time ago. Society rejects me. I didn’t want to be alone forever. Take another to the water’s edge. The faces tell me. I need company. We will drown together in the crisp, watery darkness. Find a girl. Kiss her lips. She doesn’t know me. She loves me. I take her to the pool. Together, we will be submerged in water. Drown together. Like the old poems say. I savor her kiss on my lips. In my eyes the faces smile. They know that today is the day when I will join them. Images flicker away; new faces replace the old, float around in the pool, changing the faces of dead men and women. All foul, all cursed, all rotting flesh bound together in the pool of lost souls, the waters of the dead. Beckon me to dive into the cooling waters of deceased. I will beckon you.

Jump in, hand in hand. We drown together. Nightmares. Cold water enveloping our bodies, held close together. Death flows up the nostrils, choke. I hear the screams from your mouth, the water dampening the sound. I am not mad. We are not mad. The pool takes the souls of the dead forever. Two more have joined in the early hours of the morning, while the dew drops form on the springtime grass.