In the middle of the ocean is a haven for beings who never evolved enough to grow legs, that can carry them afoot in the waking world of the sun
My soul, darkened with the regimen of sea biscuits and mold, resides here in the deep blue sea
The foam up there in the wake of night when seagulls let out their last shriek of consciousness
Aperetivo of a sort, like cream in the first cup of coffee in morn
To take a breath of air spiced with the colours of the setting sun
Clears my head for a while
But that is when the fishermen come
They ask for blessings and curses
Sometimes they take off their clothes and let the sea take them
They make me watch them drown, expecting me to open my arms for their splinters and daggers
My love is not for sale, it belongs to the sea
And when the morning comes I gather the fish left behind and breath life into them
For a while I watch my children play in the waking daylight
Before I find my way back into my haven beneath the waves
There I wait for a diver, who sometimes sits beside me by the sharp edge of a deep red reef, and speaks of the wonders of the world
When he comes, I sit there waiting
It is hard to see tears forming underwater, but he gathers them anyway
Those are my gift for him and when he returns to the waking world outside my realm
He shall cry my tears into the sand underneath his two feet
Me, a siren, he a sinner of a Man
Who cries tears of sorrows already forgotten and then heads for a drink
And I reside, I create, I remain
And I wait
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