The Murky Swamp
By John Herlihy

The pull of it I simply cannot explain,
A gag in my mouth unable to complain.
The dark pool of the murky swamp,
Pulled me into its eerie Gothic pomp.
Its mystery drew me in, a moth to flame,
As in sleep-walking, I forgot my name.
The dark waters held a magic spell,
Mysteries to attract I could never tell.
In losing my wits, I felt scared stiff,
Dank earth and hanging vines left a whiff.
The fetid pond held a multitude of fears,
The nightmare fantasies could induce tears.
The eye of the swamp pierced me through,
Beckoning me to forsake everything I knew.
My swamp fears terrorized but gave a thrill,
It’s sickening attraction I remember still.
Drawing me into the danger as if hypnotized,
While in the ground of my soul vandalized.
Standing at its edge, I stared into the water,
The dark spell compelling, a lamb to slaughter.
I never did fall in, but the swamp drew me under,
Into an imaginary world, full of fear and wonder.