My voice is getting colder,
The bubbles are flying higher,
As I fall into the reign,
As I become the fire’s prey.
Slurps of screams-
I’m past the corals
No life to be seen
No fishes, no colors.

The boiling water
Coming from below,
Fills my bursting lungs,
For I will never know-
How is it that my voice
Sounds under the water,
Echoes of whales and souls,
As I swallow the hot staggers.

I’m high pitched
And near the gates,
Of the nihilist,
The creator of disgrace
Who made my shoes fill with sand,
The salty dunes that are burying
Me in his land.
Fire and evil
This sea lacks not,
My voice under the water,
My resistance to the fog.

There is no visibility
Of the rain on the waves,
Of the bubbles that surface,
Of the fishes that will replace
My place under the water;
My voice is getting smaller.
I’m soon to find my end,
The nihilist,
The maker of the end.

I’m boiling with the water,
No whales are to be heard,
I have reached the fire,
I have become its prey-
The killer of dismay,
As I hear my screams
Under the water,
I have reached the fire.