God seems pleased with making me weak in these dark waters.
Not only is it night, but I am in the shark quarters.

I’m exhausted like long flights, mixed in with shark bites.
I’d rather jump down two flights than face this next wave of true fright.
    
My mind is turning like waves; I’m burning inside with all rage.
Before I head to my grave, I meet with endless caves.

These are unfixed depths, Nowhere to place my steps. This deep is cosmic; it’s gaping. Unplumbed and spacious,
It’s gaping and yawning,
Where vicious life is spawning.

I’m in a losing battle, you see, throwing sand at Helm’s Deep.
The deep is breaking my knees; I’m quickly drowning to sleep.