A deep well doesn't sit well.
I reap hell, wasn't it hell?
Drowning in that well
Frowning in that hell.

Tears lick my lips,
Years wick my ships,
Sounding off quips,
tongue cracking whips.

Scars on my face,
with killers my place,
slayers of all traces,
of prayers and graces.

Out at sea, lost at sea,
feet six feet deep,
sounding off a plea,
as I fix a final leap.

On the mast, fire below,
make it last, last bellow
shout it loud, gone, that cloud,
that liar, hopeful desire.