The Grecian Shore

What the eyes see not, makes not the heart to leap,
and I the protagonist, peek not off stage for the things I might see.
On the surface, life is safe;
what need, therefore, have I to plunge
when the fish brings me tidings of the deep?
Worry not, it says, for the crocodile sleeps.
Nestled here in my breast are the anxieties of the ripples.
Waves do toss ships. Lifeboats they obliterate.
A simulated shore to which clutch I.
My salvation be this debris of a stern.
Deep waters muffle cries.
Barracks be silent when master stamps his feet.

Disclaimer: I do not claim ownership of the images in this piece.