To and fro, to and fro, through mirky tides we row,
Illuminated by the moon,
Her pale and hollow glow.
Left, then right, into the night,
Both paddles, both our oars,
The waning sound of hope that one day we’ll return to shore.
Never have I felt the dark the way I do tonight,
What suffocating sadness,
Oh, what pure absence of light!
This is not a storybook,
No, not a wishing well,
We have stepped beyond the realm of tales with magic spells.
Even if they did exist, oh how I wish they would,
There is no magician here,
no wizard in the woods.
For here, in all sobriety,
In waters dark and cold,
I see my own reflection,
Yes, my blackened heart and soul.
To and fro, to and fro,
Through mirky tides we row,
Until we both go overboard,
Down to the depths below.