Did we die well In the passing Hell, By love that was hurled from our hearts To the emptied streets? Street lights pass us Without our motioning forward Through the time that constitutes death Upon its bleak shoulders. We were dreamers Loving the sails more than the waters. For it was the ocean that drowned us, Sunk us Beneath the stars and moon, Colliding light with darkness. Like when we reached bottom, Like when we flooded the rooms of our sighs. I still see the blue For the skies, The terrors of our minds For our beauties. I see What we plea for, In hopes, to survive, In want, to arrive.