Down among the sunken ships,
the furthest distance from heaven,
out of touch with the swirling tempest,
fathoms under fathoms and beyond,
the no man’s land of the macabre,
lies the mysterious waters of the deep
where no man can descend and view,
to escape the crushing
of the devil’s grip,
the closing in of the walls of iron,
the thickened waters cast down
from an airy place above,
where heaven still has an influence
where life has room to breathe,
down, down, down beneath the living,
the gates of hell to another life?
A secret made secret by the darkness?
Beasts with iron skin, black eyes,
tails that wrap around the broken ships?
The mother lode of gold never touched
and never will be?
A paradise for the treasure seekers
and hell for those who reach the treasure
and never come back.