Planktonic

We roam the dark abyssal plain
Safe from the optic nerve and brain
Unsanctified spirits in the silt of centuries

Vents and fissures where the crust is thin
Bubble and boil with the ancient sin
Warming the Stygian sleep of the slumbering worm

While rivers drain the murdered land
Carried bones in a mighty hand
To the shining sea in a sedimentary sludge

A briny bath of gore and jeers
Deadly days turn into dying years
While capricious currents and callous crustaceans disturb us

Until at last returning home
Become as legend in a poem
No deliverance from the desolate, devouring deep