As I lean over him, I recognise his shattered skull. Breathing is slow, eyes dim, Thoughts hide in a neuronal lull. Sapient forehead furrowed, From his body spirit slips. Try to learn the secret of his sorrows, From the last words that escape his lips. I hear the distant sighs Like notes of a funeral psalm. The prayers for the dead, Just like a storm before the calm. Funeral procession At the bottom of the seas. Kneel before the grave, pay reverence. Our dead sleep quietly, at least. Rest, my friend, Guarded by zoophytes. Safe from shark and man, Entombed by wondrous wights! Sleep, my friend, Entangle me in gloom. Safe from shark and man, Sleep in your coral tomb!