The Canal Fear

The Canal Fear
Up beyond the disgust and dismay
 In the middle of the nightmares in the frozen twist of your mind's eye
 Where your soul is channeled by the radiance of a sphere of vapor,
 Where you grip the ball-point to the paperback of chance,
 Lies the fear that desiccates the canal.
 Preserving the glee from disparaging for the countrywide vision
 In the lovely seawaters of the key river.
 This fear does not labor for you,
 Nonetheless he has beforehand, and he expects to for a second time.
 Embedded in your soul when you were a youth,
 And beaten from your humanity by the sculptors of civilization
 Was the fear that dehydrates the canal?
 This fears alert is made of metal and his bathrobe made of greying
 His hindmost is abnormal, but very robust. As nimble as a plume.
 Inside your soul he sneaked, and seized your thoughts.
 He generated an intensity in the depths of your awareness, just a slight spark.
 The combustions developed as your inquisitiveness materialized,
 And you grow into a portraitist of the conceivable.
 So with the current rolling substantial, you must recapture your ends.