I feel myself sinking
out of my depth
into the deep
to dream, to sleep
to gently weep
and never reap
all the seeds I’ve sown

The siren is calling
I cannot resist
her freezing lair
ice eyes, white hair
it isn’t fair
yet I don’t care
her grip is final

In peace I rest
eternal bliss
away from land
cold sea, warm sand
take my hand
this wasn’t planned
was I even real?

Craig Warhurst