The Great sea downstairs.

The stairs spiralling down into the great sea.

There is no tower, there never was but a hole in its stead.
Dragged by the streams, splashes in the caves echo. As they have always been.
There is no ladder back to the upstairs, back to your shallow waters.
There is no upstairs.
Alienating not yourself, but the stream slowly pushing you.
So for one to change direction you must first start to swim.
Or you seek to stay above, on raft.
Untouchable, Unconquerable, Unfazed and Unfulfilled.
So if even the boat, slowly, as all the other, ends up at the same waterfall.
Why not feel, jump and swim a little further yet.
It might seem cold.
It is cold.
But you’ve just gotten to warm, the waters never change.

You have always been here.

There is no point leaving for you never came.
There was no Pond, no coast, just acceptance of the greater.
Leaving is without meaning.
Staying is with great reward.