There's something poking my stomach

A sharp angry pain

It's hard to cope with

Maybe if I lie still it will subside...

Or perhaps a slow crawl is the cure...

Was it something I ingested?

Maybe that sour oyster...

Or perhaps the stale clam...

I don't understand

This tingling sensation throughout my tentacles

Five long cupped ends all in frenzy

Suddenly I spot an acquaintance, a friend

His body drapes like green sea hair

 Across the sea floor

A worn cloth with holes and frayed edges

"Enter the regeneration process"

process, process, process

I don't understand...

He's flawed

Growth is inevitable

Maybe he is different...

Perhaps he's plagued...

Maybe that sour oyster...

Or perhaps the stale clam...

"How is your pain?"

Silence

"How can I help?"

A quiet reply

"I don't know...

I don't understand..."

He reaches out

His touch is weak

weak, weak, weak

He gestures ahead into the blue abyss

A greenish swirl tinted red rises up

I'm curious

Maybe a tuna struggling on the hook...

Or perhaps the sand shark devours its prey...

Maybe that sour oyster...

Or perhaps the stale clam...

One cautious crawl

One uneasy look

I don't understand!

She's staring at the inside of her eyelids

Her five long cupped ends lying aside

Cause of death...

Suicide

A cold slimy grip tightens my stomach

I don't have enough time

time, time, time

I cry sympathy!

Maybe it's Mother Nature...

Or perhaps manmade...

Maybe that sour oyster...

Or perhaps the stale clam...

I plead mercy as the sea flows with death.

Along the Pacific coast Sea Stars are dying by the tens of thousands and no one knows why...