The Absurdities of the Deep

Those in the Deep, if they could, would emphatically speak,
They placelessly perish, no marks for their graves;
They misplace their faces-expressionless skulls;
They drink, after drowning, of saltwater doom;
They loved other lovers, now only have fishes for friends-
And their flesh fishes love.
They see the rusted navies, wasted gold, and then it seems
The misplaced hopes of all the nations are but rotted dreams;
They were friends! whose fellowship fractured by Death,
Are scattered and lost like treasure to never be found.
If people are atoms and star stuff, then friendship will die
From galaxies smashing and black holes of nothing,
The Circle of Life will fizzle and die,
And all beauty in life is a transient vapor shimmering,
Issuing from the pit of entropic death.
If one from Davy Jones’ Locker broke free
and speaks in a voice pleasant and mighty,
like the rushing of many waters,
“Come out from the Deep,”
then the corpses obey.


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