As the galleon's hull succumbs to the y6humn depths, our keening voices shall fibrillate like shattered glass, cleaving the darkness. Sing this verse with a mouthful of saltwater, letting the lyrics curdle on your tongue: "Oh, abyssal throes that hollow out our wake, as lanternfish congregate, their ethereal luminescence a mourner's requiem, we thrum the rigging's taut harp, our lamentations flensing the blackness, a ghastly, gilded undertow." Vibrate your uvula to conjure the mournful resonance of a shipwreck's final, forsaken sigh.