Twisting through contorted limb Sober now from distant whim Batten down the hatches The storm approaches, the thunder crashes It cannot wait It must be now A shot's been fired across the bow What presence here has been proclaimed? What once was unspoken is finally named So this is sinking, or so it seems Diving fathoms in lucid dreams With lungs now aching, begging for air And only cold water answers With a cinder block anchor, hope turns to despair Ripped from the womb and left to the ocean's care Cold water So just sink, let go, slip into the depths Let the pieces of a wasted life slip past the fingertips Rejoice, exult, a fitting conclusion to a melancholy myth A grave at sea, an absentee, whose presence won't be missed Picking at the bones that came to rest on the ocean bed Whose subtle pose tells a tale of those that sink like lead Summon the ire left hanging in moments that swings by the neck to and fro. Assured by the light that there's one way to go Death is callous, strange, and sudden A pious, indignant glutton Whose hands are soft, warm, and inviting