Deep beneath sapphire waves,
A nacreous sphere tugs my eyes,
As a bow bound narrow knave,
Calls out in grief-stricken cries,
How might a weary boy child find respite these days,
When the electric jungles casts mirages in a blurry haze?
Do they really need him back posthaste?
O’er cries in vain remnants of the pain?
On land and up above,
Maybe he can ease the weight some,
From those who have been caught dumb,
For every cell foments change,
And no one wishes to be deranged,
In life glistening through the sun