The waves crashed, a foam of white,
Slowly whisking into bright light
A body of complexion fare,
A beauty with an astral stare
Her body rested upon moist sand,
A man with a wrinkled hand
Covered her with salted weed
Doing unto her a most horrid deed
When the man was through,
He threw her back into the blue
Cursing her life from after death
And found no guilt with his every breath
But deep inside the woman’s womb
Lied a child within a fleshly tomb
Who harbored hate for this old man
For tainting his dear Mother Anne
Beneath the Deep’s tender swell
Broke free the youth of his natal cell,
And waited until the man’s return
For his death did he ever so yearn
A year had passed, the child did wait
Until the man had come only to ate
The salted weed caressed his leg
And shattered it like a lonely egg
The child feasted upon the broken leg
The old man, his life, did he pitifully beg
But with the face of Anne, the elder knew
He was to be dragged into the Deep Blue
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