Cement blocks on your feet can't stop your eyes from running.
A fixture in the farewell setting of your own fatality.
Cinder heavy sock loads,
disable the wiggling of your toes.
But those eyes stay a-running.
The dampness turns to we,
onslaught of full fledged soaking.
the water in your mouth tastes like salty self
Another lap running this green mile,
the drowning starts now.