From the High Tower

Of my Great Sand Castle,

I see you struggling…

You fight the waves,

You are stuck at the surface…

Listen.

The Bell we ring

To make the Swallow sing

Is the same secret

I’m compelled to tell;

How my baby’s Pearl

Can only form

In the cradled Concha,

Beneath waters so warm.

At a time, taught to be

An answerless riddle,

For those with no rhythm,

No heart for the Sea.

It takes understanding

To take control.

If the easy way out

Is what you’re looking for,

You’ll be cast to the waves

Too soon, washing ashore.

You don’t deserve the Ultimate Prize

If you won’t offer the Syren your soul.

Nah, drown in this new dimension,

As sweet compression

Forces strong current

Down the Submarine’s sides.

The Treasure we speak of

Is not for the weak.

You must be willing to give your life.

The Anchor we drop

Must be driven with arc

And delivered with firmness of heart.

There are those unwilling, or unable

To meet the demands

Of Neptune’s Daughter;

These are the ones who return

Empty-handed,

Those who won’t offer

Their Eternal Heart…

This is the secret

I’m compelled to tell…

The Anchor we raise

Must be driven with arc.