Raging weathers of black liquid,
A swaying object that has just shifted,
Everything around me can't be seen,
Not a spectacle of the shaky seas.
Landing on an island of pure azure,
I end up remembering nothing but a blur,
Looking around me just once more,
There was something that I could not possibly adore.
Not the surroundings of papers and books,
But nothing compared to crimson hooks.