Instead

At the other side of the pond - she sit with her legs wide apart
All dressed in black as is the pond

Her arms are resting at her legs - one hand are holding her chin
and she stares at me with blind blackness

she is caught in there
in there, in her blackedness - kind of sorrow or

has she overnight become
a troll - with hatred burdens

I don't feel any urge  - to swim that water
because I see

a green Forrest in the distance  - just a brim
before the ocean of lights

That's where I will go instead