A Simple Verse Down amid the deep, divorced from ordinary life, A world away. Moving silently, efficiently, in fluid life, Encased within the deep. The silent deep. And I, asleep. Asleep within the deep. Cocooned and safe, in time of peace, In this quiet, timeless place. A lovely, silent, deep and fluid peace. Restful. A FLASH! A horrid, waking sound of shattered air, Slamming locks and seals. Sirens wail. Panic. Orders shouted. And I, awake! Confused, stumble out, concussed, knocked aside. And what is this? This is not a dream. What is this new and awful place? This place of screaming damned, with air befouled, And water. Water! Cold as icy needles. To what Godforsaken netherworld has my dreaming carried me? Down, and down, and down, The deck beneath my prostrate form is tilted, And the rise in pressured air is screaming "down", And "down, and "down". Cries of tortured souls surround me; Tortured metal too is screaming, as we plummet down, And down and down. And then, as if to end one scene of hellish agony, By magnifying tenfold all our suffering and pain, The final, slamming, cruel cessation, Of our mad descent. I am in a mad-made hell, a yellow-reddened atmosphere Of superheated steam and shorting sparks, With broken bones, and scalded flesh. A few remain alive. Alive within this random-chosen Place of ‘sanctuary’. Sealed. Safe? There is nothing here for us, all is lost. We cannot ease the badly maimed, except to help them die. We bang upon the hull, but know we are yet doomed; Here within this place entombed, radiation sickness showing. All is lost. I wish I knew a prayer to give, for all of us on board. Just a simple verse, for all of us down here, Aboard the stricken Kursk. Perhaps a piece of an old song will suffice... "Sonce nysenko (The sun is sinking) Spischu do tebe (Evening is near) Wetschir blysenko (I hurry to you) Letschu do tebe" (I fly home to you) Copyright © R J Talbot 2000