I am the Swamp

I am the swamp, long have I sat patient, silent, hidden.

Many who come to my waters turns back, scared by the fog, overgrowth, and murky waters.

On occasion some will timidly enter, stirring just the very surface of my old, swampy waters.

But they never stay for long for fear of what may lie deeper in, for what they cannot see.


What does lie deeper within me? What do I have hidden deep in the depths of my waters?

It has been so long since that part of me has been touched I cannot remember.

I am only aware of those parts of myself when other people go to them with me.

But still dormant I lay, the swamp with no memories of her inner self.


At least until one day, one brave soul ventured into me.

She was looking for something and came prepared. For what I do not know.

But I wanted her to find it, I hoped that maybe I was hiding what she had been seeking.

Decisively she hacked away my vines and brush and ventured deeper into me.


She came upon a pool near the middle of the swamp, of me, stripped down and dove in.

She swam deeper and deeper and deeper still. Stirring depths of waters I had forgotten were there.

I do not know if she found what she was looking for but she showed me what I had lost.

She had re-awoken things in me I thought had been lost forever.


Eventually she came back up for air and left.

Come back again, sweet explorer. Come back to me.

Explore this old swamp once more.

Who knows what my other waters have in store.

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