The ocean doesn’t breathe—it waits, Pressing silence through iron gates, A sunken world of shattered glass, Where hope goes down and doesn’t pass. I hear the city rot and moan, A choir built from broken bone, And every step I take below Feels like a debt I didn’t owe. There is no light that follows me, Only pressure… and memory. No gods in the deep, no kings in the dark, Just leaking minds and a sinking spark, Rapture screams but no one hears, It drowns in its own machine of fears. Hold your breath till you forget your name, Down here, everything becomes the same— No gods in the deep, no kings in the dark, Just the echo of a world gone stark. Angels with syringes in their hands, Trading souls for violent plans, They carved their freedom into steel, And forgot how anything should feel. Little footsteps in flooded halls, Where sanity fractures, bends, and falls, A child of sorrow, coded pain, Collecting what the monsters drain. The water learns what minds conceal, Then teaches them how not to heal. No gods in the deep, no kings in the dark, Just leaking minds and a sinking spark, Rapture screams but no one hears, It drowns in its own machine of fears. Hold your breath till you forget your name, Down here, everything becomes the same— No gods in the deep, no kings in the dark, Just the echo of a world gone stark. “Would you kindly” fades to black, A sentence you can’t give back, Choice dissolves in salted air, And you realize you were never there. No gods in the deep, no kings in the dark, Only hunger leaving its mark, Steel cathedral, drowned and torn, A paradise that shouldn’t have been born. Hold your breath until you fade, Until even memory is decayed— No gods in the deep, no kings in the dark, Just you… and the shape you became in the dark.
