What of it?

Shoals cross my mind.
I try connecting to bliss.
What's this sadness I'm feeling?
Changes procrastinate and hiss.
I'll wait for them to carry me with them.
Into their watery abyss
And disintegrate into the slow rush.
Down they'll push me, past creatures noones ever seen. That I'll never glimpse.
Ones with neon lights and illuminated forms.
Below the calls of whaleships and carefree cruising holidaymakers glasses.
And the solemn helicopter rescuers that search in vein, bellowing my name at the echoes of lost lives.