The Eel

The Eel
Slithering in the depthless waters
We find the eel—never blinking
Rarely has he seen the sun
Encompassed with mistrust
He's a soloist of the deep

Calm burning in his soul,
We find his home
Serenely built on the quietude of his spirit
He melts into his cold tunnels
He's the keeper of the ocean's secrets

Frowning and gaping
He lifts his slimy head
Watching the strangers swimming along
Catching interest in one or two
Only to assist them in knowing—he's the devourer of whomever he pleases to
overthrow

He's so unobtrusive, this little creature
Yet fire seems to burn from within
As if by coming a little closer…
He'd reveal his secrets from beneath the fin

In awe the eel will slither back in his throne of emptiness
Silent desperation was never described so discreetly
Yet he conquers all completely
And survives longer than his kind could ever appreciate

Soloist of the sea
I doubt you desire me to observe
Your slimy, despicable existence
But you are worthy of acknowledgement—
Much worthier than I myself

For truly, my eely presence in these lines
Is diminutive against your profound, human-like indifference