Befuddling fog hangs low on water
Concealing faces of the mossy drowned men

Children of thy Gods, all misbegotten ones
Gained their peace in dance of black waves
In disregard they look towards the skies
Wrapped up with silt and mellow seaweed
Salt water brood, immune to Love or Blight
Nonfluctuating whole point of life

Veins without blood, lifeless shrunk containers
Tie up the bed of the exhausted world
Drowned in cold, ancient plains and mount ridges
Hide from all eyes dead shell of days