Don't wait for me
to come to the surface.
There is a lifetime of possibility
here on the ocean floor.
Let me be
the bottom-dweller
first discovered by submarine.
The darkness is not
as intimidating
as it may seem.

Don't feel around for my body
with your feet.
You won't find me in the shallow end
of the sea;
walk down the gradual *****,
where there is no air left to breath.
Over the mountains and hills
and great plains,  then you'll find me
Seven miles deep
in the Marianas Trench.

Then you'll understand my immense stress.

"And now I do want you to know I'd hold you up above everyone.
And now I do want you to know I think you'd be good to me
And I'd be so good to you"
                                    
                                              - Marianas Trench

In the trench alone.
when will I go home?
From No mans land I hear another moan.
surely, he will not go home.
Mans fight to the death.
"Please come home" our nearest say under their breath.
Blood turns the mud red.
How many more boys and men will go home dead?
A moments silence.
Bird song.
A trickling stream.
It's just a dream.
Mustard gas!
Barbed wire!
Gun fire!
In the trench alone.
When will I go home?

Nigel the soldier
Shoulders big as boulders
Up over the top
Tried not to stop
Tripped on some wire
Dodged all gun fire
Jumped back up again
Then it started to rain
Got to the other side
In one giant stride
Took some enemy out
They began to shout
Nowhere else to go
In a place he didn't know
Nigel the brave
Resting forever in an unmarked grave

Take a rest
is this gods test?
There is a stench resonating from the trench.
Death appears in many forms. A distorted face looks out from the mud unaware of what has been left behind. The bare trunk of a tree no longer able to sway in the wind. Mans broken spirit looking for a way to escape the living hell. No surrender. When will it end? No time to rest I must keep digging.

Grown my beard long enough,
time, now, to
announce to the world,
the demands of the new Caliph:

First a rider on raiment -
of black be your fashion.

Then, in the name of the Lord
the most merciful,

We demand razors!
Yeah we need more of them -
for shaving our underarms
and other sacred duties outlined below.

We demand brides!
We can knock at your censured
doors at night:
for faithful brides and
infidel ****** for pleasure.

In the name of the Lord, most merciful,
Madam, may I ask,
is your modesty circumcised?

In the name of the Lord, most merciful,
Can we have more watches please?

But mannequins, they must be covered.
And when we huddle the infidels
in trenches or behead your sons
please, we do so in but peace!