crashing seas and lapping waves,
swirling and twirling through clefts and caves.
under seas as clear as glass,
overt only when seven years come to pass.

to mortal eyes never seen,
and not always has there ever been.
sunk beneath the sea so deep,
so many years has been its keep.

in this land below the sea,
what puzzling creatures could there be?
folk of faery blood and lore,
or beasts with skin dark blue, or more...

soon it seems, we shall find,
these formidable creatures of unsound mind.
bloodshot eyes and sharpened fangs,
carrying spears from which gore hangs.

marching, marching, over ground,
mark my word, they'll be around.
you try to run, they hunt you down,
they'll chase you to the sea to drown.

now listen close, come gather round,
they'll hear your breath or liv heart pound.
not all stories have pleasant ends,
and this one it seems, just transcends...