They see the world through a looking glass, these creatures of the sea.
Never bothered by what bothers me.
No air to choke on, no words to spill;
these creatures of these sea feel only distant chill.
Why bother swimming,
when you can just stand still?

A cold feeling aggravates your soul,
and with a guarded smile,
it can grow and grow and grow.
When it swells too large for you to hold,
wait, and watch yourself explode.


Have you ever seen a shattered oyster?
They lie at the bottom, and turn into sand,
Until turbulent waters stir up their land.
These oysters will get their revenge,
for this horrible crime of the god’s great cleanse.
Of wars, they care nothing, nor of all the gushing red,
if blood was what they wanted, they wouldn’t be dead.
It is in their minds, this terrible disease;
this turning of eyes to the blind of the human unease.