Ballad

A Diver's Tale

Deep below the ocean's surface
Swam a lone diver deep,
Searching the wreck down under
For anything his hands could keep.

Pushing his limits to the very end,
Cold water all around.
The quiet of the deep sings
While searching for things to be found.

The risk a diver does take
Is his and his alone.
A man at one with his equipment,
This is what he calls his home.

Weaving through the deep wreckage
Danger present at every moment;
He must be careful now
Or end in deathly torment.

A wire hanging delicately floats,
Still in the water, unmoving.
The diver never knowing it's presence
Swims into it, and now is losing.

He is caught in the deadly fingers
Of the wreckage on that day;
With little oxygen left for him
He is slowly wasting away.

Panicked and caught off guard
His breathing starts to increase.
Nitrous oxide is building up
And soon he may be at peace.

One last chance is left for him.
One last way to escape.
If he can reach his knife
And cut the wire agape.

Slowly his oxygen is running out.
This diver has little time remaining.
Reaching for his knife, he finds a hold
The last bit of energy draining.

Cutting, cutting, cutting away
The diver begins to break free,
Yet that is not the end of his journey
For he is still under the sea.

Slowly he must work his way back,
Nitrogen narcosis must leave him.
He may not rush to the top
For his fear of "the bends" is grim.

Passing the stop points along the line
The diver is slowly reaching safety.
Though his oxygen is still low
He must not make his way hasty.

Nearing the top the diver is ecstatic
His journey is nearing an end.
Beautiful is the ocean's surface
Yet men to the grave it will send.

This is the risk a diver takes
When pitting his life against the deep.
Cold and unforgiving it may seem,
But treasures from it he will reap.