Abyssal

The waves are the embodiment of mystery,
An oblivion of crushing weight and shadow,
More unknown than the dark side of the moon,
Though its wane and wax has a rhythmic aria to it,
The abyss has a song all its own,
A dread tune,
Like tentacles licking at your eardrums,
Distorted static of whalesong,
The crunch of crabshell underfoot,
Its lyrics manifest as thalassophobia,
A warning in the mind,
Sharks teeth and squid beaks upon your nape,
Salt and brine on your tongue,
The knowledge that man is not welcome.

Isolation

And lo,
I find myself upon an iceberg,
Naked and secluded,
I checked myself into this purgatory,
Rapport and society are distant pirate coves,
The choppy seas are a chorus of mockery,
And it adores my laments,

This spit of ice,
Cut by the orca teeth of the past,
It’s a prison as well as a tomb,
A torture device of my own making,
I’m a seal lost to the world,
Sat in my own miserable fat,
And here I shall remain,

Until those poles begin to thaw.

Tidal Wave

The water knows,
It can taste my fear on the salty breeze,
It attacks the shore like a feral beast,
It lash’s at the shore in rancour,
Impotently contesting the land,
Taking chunks with it as prizes,
Time is on its side,
It breathes in,
Saving up for an almighty onslaught,
A tidal wave,
A titanic deluge of foul intent,
A watery mass of coral teeth and blades,
Overpowering the land with weight of fathoms,

They say that the sea is the bearer of life,
But it’s a resolute predator,
All it desires is to consume my flesh.

Dark Fathoms

The day finds its demise,
Tossing and turning,
My rest is interrupted by eldritch fingers,
Emanating a foul energy,
Tentacles in my mind,

I dream of fathoms deep,
To airless environs,
Where even fish dare not venture,
Waters claimed by spectres and arcane chants,
Where the sun and sanity both drown,

Something stirs,
Eyeing the surface with a million oculi,
A million definitions of mad hunger,
Watching a world it seeks to extinguish,
A million maws curling into grins.

The Smuggler

We are criminals,
We are dead men walking,
Smugglers and felons all,

A pall falls over our vessel,
A dark mist,
A palpable guilt,
As if the sea knows our illicit purpose,

A distant lighthouse stands guard,
Its light is our doom,
The tension is tangible,

The white coast is a reminder that we are outcasts,
The cliffs tell us we are doomed,
The chines call with a foil behind their backs,
The surf tries to drag us to the gallows,

Our vessel a prize for the law,
Our cargo a trophy for Customs,
The disquietude is discernible,

Waves lash at the hull like blades,
A far-off sentry spies us,
The sea knows,
The sea grins.

Knight Of The Brine

As gunfire erupts,
And bulletproof angels squabble overhead,
And tracers flitter here and there,
A lord of war takes to the field,
A knight of the brine approaches,
Even the mighty sea herself quakes at its coming.

A cascading tempest of fire and brimstone,
A man-made tidal wave,
A force of human nature,
Even as brothers of the fleet rot and burn all around,
The knight of brine surges forth,
Bellowing hellfire and smoke.

Ahead full!
Onward!
To victory!