The lapping waves of a turquoise sea, the muted beats of heartstrings,

My wandering soul sinks deep to rest, where a lonely sailor sings,

Falling to a sandy grave, of violent storms in tempest,

Finding death in a seashell grave, I, now hidden, rest.

--

An unmarked grave beneath my life, under the watch of Davy,

Only red skies permeate my morning, a warning from my Navy.

The whispers of the cresting waves, the darkness as I sleep,

My bed among the sea’s lost souls, in the locker of the deep.