автор: Gabriel

Once the deepest we`d seen was the grave...
then we became brave;
went into the unknown;
the colder it got the deeper we`d go
never turned back, traveling on;
walked all the way till the shore
where the depths of the sea were offering more;
so the grave became deeper, farther from home
the slopes scaled were steeper, the sun barely shone;
then came the day that we lay our eyes
on the deepest thing yet, as we drank of the skies...

But these hearts of ours no longer knew home
nor did they, each-other, so utterly cold.
We`d crossed thresholds unseen and untold.
This distance we`ve gone now we cannot fold.

The grave became infinite,
and alas, so did we,
being everything,
spread impossibly thin.

And all became none
as all warmth was gone;
Forgot that the deepest and truest thing lies
within pairs of infinite eyes...