In the patio of submarines,
There shades depth of oceans from hue to blues and greens,
As torrents of rainy hazes preceding lies a no emotion of heart-racing bumps, like lumps of voids take over as no anchors leave a carcass lying deep bed of brine as corrals to seaweeds cling onto something that is woven of flesh but a longing hanging in between the two universe lies a soul for its disgruntled desires lament for longings but dwelling with a lover's goodbye note as sweeps of dust...