A current is buried below the sea
Atoning the blue and green of your feet.
From stricken surrender of strength to speak,
Hope follows the tide in suspect belief.
How rare a bedding to relax the knees
That sunders your body, slender and meek.
How ashen your face seems beneath the sheets
Matching the mattress intended for sleep.
Consciousness returns, memory retreats
Along with your sight and the light you see.
The mighty sea splits, the sheets start to thin,
Unveiling a masked, unshakable grin.
The angels failed to warm your pallid skin,
So thaw out faster, let Hell take you in.
- Alexander McCurdy