The rush of the aged sea calls my sensibilities,

But all I see around me is the thirsty earth.

Tired of listening in cracked sea-shells,

I long for the ocean's playful embrace.

The final resting place of myth,

The unpierced depths,

The unknown splendors.

Mysterious hues and skewed reflections.
Where the cancerous sun reaches in vain.

And the silent solitude,
Indignant of sonar.

I long to be where I don't belong,
To evolve gills and gobble currents.

To watch humanity
Floating on the surface
With straining eyes.

To know
It is Atlantis they seek
With their snorkel gear.

To know
That I alone possess the secrets
Which baffle humanity's brain.