We Were Dead Before The Ship Even Sank

Dead before the ship even sank,
tied up and bound before I even walked the plank.
Regret thrashing in the shape of waves,
a tidal monstrosity of heartache,
taste me drowning in the ocean of mistake;
why were we digging early graves?

To forgive...
submerge fate's will to live,
and an honest hatred I misgive.
Can't give you love, not even lust,
inherited symptoms of unrelenting pain
before the dead turned to dust.
Pull the plug and bathe in my icy rain,
an affusion of emerald champagne.

We were dead before the ship even sank,
an epiphany that only drew blank.
Confliction in manifestation
of a silent, violent, black whirlpool,
spinning, so I'm a mute wraith without destination.
Darling, your razor blade kisses were cruel,
but, oh Lord, I'm filled with so much temptation,
collapsing with insanity on my own foundation.

We were dead before the ship even sank,
but I've died once more,
embracing finales that I adore.
Diving further into an ocean of my own -
blood, black and white with mourning whispers;
they tell me of misery that was once unknown.
I met with Medusa, she was my love, forever she said,
and she's turned my heart to cold, hard, stone...