berthed on the submarine

yes,
i have said it many times before
i was born
the son of a submarine
in darkness
miles down
torpedos shot
missiles fired
the captain with his fixed frown

for days on end
and lined up neatly
i was born
half-way
completely

ready for the being
that I might never be
ready for the ocean
burying all of me.

i was born the son of a submarine
running silent in white sea froth
attracted to the light
like a un-discovered moth

but that was me
long years ago
before I died a thousand deaths

that was me
short days ago
before I took
my last breath.