Engulfed in a maelstrom;
you are the current that's dragging me down
into an empty cold place, my untimely demise,
but what a perfect death would it be
to die in your arms.
Now the pressure increases
and my ribs shatter, I feel the punctured lungs
and my breathing slows,
I send one final brave glance, a silent protest.
Looking down at my watery grave,
accepting my final burial.
And I see you smile
as you watch me suffer and die.