It's like sailing through sand,
but only we fit through.
Stop the current. Drain the temperature.
Stand tall and laugh,
like these structures once did,
and cut this ice with the flame that crawls.
The oceans press against the metal.
"The air," you screamed. "The pressure."
But we remain intact.
Airlocked in this ship,
we sink into the darkness.
No one can help you hold your breath.
You won't stand the answers,
but you still ask the questions.
Look right through his voice,
but we can't get a pulse.
Dive through pressure changes.
Only hope the dust will break your fall.
The oceans press against the metal.
"The air," you warned. "The pressure."
Then the windows started to crack.
Ascending to the surface depths,
I echoed your blank stares and held my breath.
The steel drops with the metronome.
You kept the time? Who kept it?
Pick it up.