The ocean is full of the dead.
Their faces appear to us in the broken windows of shipwrecks and in sea foam.
Their voices whisper among the swirling currents and in the crashing waves.
Their corpses devoured by the same fish we all eat, bringing them home at last.
We hear them in the mist and call them mermaids when they cry out for their final resting place.
We watch them dart about among the deepest oceans and claim we found a new species of shark.
We wonder why so many lost ships go unfound and ignore whatever manages to wash ashore.
Their faces appear to us in the broken windows of shipwrecks and in sea foam.
Their voices whisper among the swirling currents and in the crashing waves.
Their corpses devoured by the same fish we all eat, bringing them home at last.
We hear them in the mist and call them mermaids when they cry out for their final resting place.
We watch them dart about among the deepest oceans and claim we found a new species of shark.
We wonder why so many lost ships go unfound and ignore whatever manages to wash ashore.
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