there is so much one doesn't see

THERE IS SO MUCH ONE DOESN’T SEE


There is a placid brook flowing
Like a slithering serpent
Underneath is a forlorn marvel
Misguided by sophistry
Yet tuned by a musicians taste
Shadow that stooped over miscellaneous sheets
Silvery, shiny floating corpses
Had tentacles bare and grey.
Thirsty braided barks
Dispersed a pristine silence
Gaze fell upon a slim turbulence
Upon a nocturnal feminine dream.
Again where the finesse retreated
And stayed to extract perfumes
Reflections longed for precedence
The brook, a tear that buried a sobbing child
Or a tear that cried.