Last night I stood on your shores
and beckoned and beaconed you closer
but you're a sloop lost at sea
every moment, losing composure.
So, I put my feet into your ocean
feeling your angry waves;
all those lost to The Locker;
all those water-graves.
You are the sloop and the sea
and all those that drown in you
your skin is seaweed green, by day
During the day? The softest hint of blue