Flames roared along the sails and masts, illuminating the sea for miles.
I know people were screaming and the fire was roaring down into the water
But I never heard any of it.
I felt the heat from the ship and tasted the salt of sea but still I never heard.
I saw the deck burst up into the night and all the splinters turn to ash,
Falling like snow around me, hissing into the water.
The beast slipped below to slumber in the deep, the fire still burning as it fell.
There are faces filling the water, all leaving and going the way of the ship.
I have lashed myself to this wood and it's all that's keeping me above the bottom.
Now I'm alone and adrift and the rain is falling.
Day and night and what does it all matter?
Not much while begrudgingly lashed to this sliver of hope,
My floating cross to bear.
It was days, maybe years, might as well been centuries before I solved it all.
This is a joke, everything in the cosmos has built toward this,
And I get to be the punchline.
The joke is that there is no joke.
And I never got the punchline.
Nobody expects miracles here in this hellish watery desert, I never did.
My body may have resided on the surface, my soul had long been drowned.
Yet hope still floated with me, whether I wanted her company or not.
It was the other beasts of the deep that brought her.
They lumbered and groaned out of the abyss, these guardians of the sea.
They sang such songs of mystery and majesty before vanishing below.
Now as I clutch the sand and feel it on my face, I realized so much.
We were never supposed to rule like this, fake kings in a fake empire.
We were made to feel small and helpless,
So we can notice this world and realize just how far we have to go.
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