As if they had a choice

They gave themselves up

To the rising waters.

A willing sacrifice.

Words in letters

Speak of life, of love, of truth,

Only read by the sea—

A water that cares not for poetry.

From poet to water

To cleanse the ink,

To cleanse it from the pages,

To drown the muse that torments him.

From loose fingers to air,

By air to sea,

Accidentally.

It matters not.

The sea takes them.

The waters cleanse them.

Suffocates them.

Kills them.

And so, write the words again?

Write them down for all to see?

No, let the water take them,

Drag them down to the bottom of the ocean.