Silvery canvas molds,
Painted by the cold winds it folds,
Seldom, ripples tear into thorns,
Mighty hind-shadows are born.

Tiny currents swim beneath,
Ecstatic as the static on TV.

How smooth it must feel,
So go for a plunge,
In this silvery shine,
Leave all your worries behind.

In Hades, rules change,
Without weight, it remains,
Pull a handful of the same,
Viscous as it seems,
Through the sludge, body steers,
Melts through the million fears.

An unsaid cost,
For this infinite thirst,
A tiny fumble, 
Everything crumbles,
For this is not our dwelling,
For us rock dwellers.

But fear not, my fellow dwellers,
We shall make this our refuge,
After the grand deluge.