Roses In An Underwater Room - Poem by Austin Wheeler
He rests in the center of an underwater room,
On the ship which met its subserviant doom.
But why does his drowned bouquet still bloom?
A smile still lingers on leather tissue skin,
Although he'll never see his beloved Sue again.
Happiness is past the point of fret over an end.
From the vessel and the body propped within,
Love and Legend is what his shell did send
To the elements seen and unseen.
'Tis nothing but a change of scene.
And once that ship fed the blue and green,
Others became desperate fiends,
For their certain ends left unanswered means.
And that was not enough on the sinking St. Josephine.
And as hell reigned aquamarine all the while,
In the shrinking air pocket, one kept a smile,
Because straight above was the man's only child,
And below he could see his wife; love of carnal style.
Left to chance, up or down, now less than miles.
But in between in the now is where we found him,
Grinning face the shade of bile.
I could smell the drowned roses through my mask.
How did the submerged scarlet still bloom, I ask?
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