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Wild limbs
Flailing, reaching, grasping
Reeling, slipping, snaking
The great monster of the deep pushes off from the grime of the sea floor, pumping its tentacles with ever-growing power and lust for the light.
It hungers for the entrancing surface above
For the surface brings tender morsels of foreign food
Lost sailors, bruised and raging
At the unrelenting sea.
Kraken.
You need only speak its name and it will come.
Not twice; not thrice, but once.
Call its name and it will burst forth like a malnourished bulldog, unkempt and unloved
Underestimated more than the rugged depths of the bitter abyss from whence it came.
All it seeks is release
Sweet, sweet freedom
From its lonely prison of familiarity
And into the dawn of a new day, a new meal.
Beware he who never glimpses the light, for in the enchanting bliss of a bittersweet morn
You shall die.
YOU ARE READING
Dead Man's Tales: Poetry of the Caribbean
FanfictionThis is a collection of poetry and short stories inspired by Pirates of the Caribbean.
