The spirit that sings and echoes all around,
That voice which comes from deep far down,
The cry that appears from no where,
So much sadness and all that despair.
She sobs and wails as it gyrates amongst the waves,
Her solitude and loneliness and all in her watery grave,
Stood here on the deck homing in on her cry,
Wanting so many answers and reasons why.
I stare into the ocean so far below,
The swirling images of her story she shows,
She was condemned so long ago and sent to the depths,
Invading her mind and past with her filling me with threats.
In love with the man they call Davy Jones,
Cursed by her heart with a crew of his own,
Scared for all eternity and bound to the Dutchman,
Forever watching and observing that haunted man.
To see her caressing the waves and her tears rolling in,
The highest tide up against our boat knowing she'll win,
Swirling skies and the water combing us along,
Each wave like a strong and separate prong.
The whirlpool embedded in the ocean now pulling us down,
Waiting for us with evil grin and her trident and crown,
Patterns of her face encrusted in the seabed below,
Lost without a trace to a watery end and forever we'll go...
"Pfft, that was a challenge?" 
Bronze trophy winner
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