A rusty tomb weighted,
Wedged in wet sand,
Hollow - yet full -
Fool’s Gold shining
Through a series of apertures,
Gleaming with empty promise,
Even at such depth…

The tide can rush but not pull
This treasure to the surface;
The fish can weave in and out
Again, unaware of the
Brilliance lost, seeing only
The attractive glitter and noting the
Safe spot beneath the lid.

I, too, was once fooled.
I found safety on a leaky vessel,
And saw the gold that wasn’t gold -
The brilliance a thin veneer,
A glorious vision masking a dark decay,
A hollow - not holy - treasure
Sunk in an ancient, battered grave…