Analysis of "tied" a poem in free verse #24

Under which I live,
is the surface,
of their existence.
I am under that,
where I've been placed,
without feelings,
of the drowning grasp,
of my gasps of breadth.
In my deepest wish,
I've given away redemption,
undertow hands rebuked demons,
my cares float away.

Under which I believe,
on rewound silence,
of my darkest kept secret.
I float away,
on the harmonies,
of the symphony,
of life,
instilled,
on fanatic whirlwinds,
tied to the empathetic eyes,
that turn away,
as I float today.

Something she has to give,
given on her hands,
my litanies of shrine,
risen high above,
the surface of thine eyes.
I float away.

Dripping through they're strained,
listening hands,
of the silent,
sweet nectar,
that flows,
splashing,
tied to my tree,
that has been tarred,
feathered,
on a hill,
by a little blackbird,
that sighs,
`tis nigh,
while I float away.