Emeth

Look how far you have fallen
no branches to break it
shifting sand
your anchor
lies your comforter.
Deep is the well
no grace 
no truth
down there.
Many say come
beckoning
hands outstretched
salvation sure,
until,
the great fall
without support
no anchor.
The masked
unmasked
reveals
death
trapped
beautified
by pilates with clean hands.