The tempest breaches the toppled crest,
The cargos unhinged; even the chest.
Waves pound the crippled hull,
Lulling to death man abreast.
The sea horrors grip the towering mast,
With their tentacles gripping the splintering shaft.
Sailors screaming their prayers,
Snacking like a Kraken on mateys; avast.
The cyclone tears her completely wide,
Starboard is sunken, drowning inside,
She bears her suffering, her agony,
Boundless; in stride.
Hungry waters devour wailing sailors,
Consuming their flesh while they gargle prayers,
Watching light dissipate in lapping waves,
Watery graves devouring hope, dreams, and failures.
The tempest has toppled the calm before the storm.
About the Creator
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More stories from Travis Baez and writers in Poets and other communities.
The Business of Nature
Dew drops reflected the light of the sun. The inhabitants of Whispering Woods woke up to the golden droplets of water on the leaves of the flora. The oaks particularly enjoyed the light and the maples did, too. Happiness enveloped all who lived there, even the rocks that cried out in the night delighted in the morning.
By Skyler Saunders2 days ago in Fiction
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