Befuddling fog hangs low on water Concealing faces of the mossy drowned men
Children of thy Gods, all misbegotten ones Gained their peace in dance of black waves In disregard they look towards the skies Wrapped up with silt and mellow seaweed Salt water brood, immune to Love or Blight Nonfluctuating whole point of life
Veins without blood, lifeless shrunk containers Tie up the bed of the exhausted world Drowned in cold, ancient plains and mount ridges Hide from all eyes dead shell of days