The deep lays beneath,

the salty swallows tempting me with their gushing, feverous eyes,

above only billowy satin,

such promise and demise,

I stand on the weary cliff so many others have trodden before,

a singular being on this metaphorical kind of shore,

only luck or fate will lead me,

this moment lasts forever and this I can't adore,

choice and logic should save me now,

entice me with their velvet wings and lead me with their lore,

Before this point in time,

I never imagined how hard this leap would be,

where you either soar,

or plummet into the dark, cold sea