The pressures are great. But also, they know,
it’s down in the great trench the kraken resides,
never rising, nor stirring. He waits. He abides.
They swim above him, and watch. They swim slow,
and look hard for movement, and watch his stilled eyes,
which, were the lids lifted slowly, would visibly glow.
They project serene calm, but that’s merely a guise,
for they fear above all: the kraken will rise.