The duck floats down and down.
Overcome by the bright darkness.
The mud below is brown,
and creates a cloud of sorrow.
Throughout the wet dirt crawls creepy little creatures.
Some snap claws or hiss.
The duck stares down at their frightening ugly features,
and says goodbye to happy bliss.
The ducks eyes close.
The creatures reach out.
They must be bad, without a doubt.
Is this the end?
The duck quakes as the creatures gather near.
Please don’t go little duck.
This water can still be clear.
Please do not fill it with your blood and tears.
The duck looks at me and softly quacks goodbye.
Just when I believe the duck will be hurt,
The duck turns and swims away by and by.
I watch him leave as I happily cry.
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