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Red mist that night Unholy still Our ships pins marring That ocean like glass For the wind, all at once, had died I strode the deck, bashing heads As I must, such as men were Loosed sails that might May a breeze sort the lot Twilight had broke The first sight to fix me, My dearest new maiden wife Bon Homme she stayed Small miles west, whaling I must stay The next, stole my breadth The whole of the ocean rose Blending both sky and sea Where one began I could not tell But it's glass caught us up Brought us high, fearing to tip From wince it's cresting The very sea brought to waste Screaming to lash sail The words strangled my throat I could see them come Not one at first, but sprang Many as though they were the sea itself Tearing at decking, board and man Destroying, in mad waste A mass of scrabbling death The ocean bubbled, cursing its own fate Each parts aquatic fish, The dead men of a thousand years Drowned, and undead Grasping, ripping, and tearing at life In a moment I was thrown From faithful decking Knocking myself senseless upon the spar Suddenly in the cold To my men, in lifeboats tossed about Creatures, rose around us Twice the height of man A guffaw, almost laughter Before they opened mouths as one And cast their eyes upon us Behind their voices Like chirping of birds All black of wing A song, barely heard Just beyond its words With a menace of despair Too grand for comprehension The night darkened As the stars winked out One by one The entities, became one Tor'd Ul d'Chulp It bleed my ears as it spoke The ocean boiled around my little boat Inward I cowered when it spoke it's name It seemed to straighten If something of such great height could And turned away Our crew of six, nightmarish awe Our lifeboat then thrown about in its wake At which point, men screamed I know, for I was among them Not for our lot, now with the sea But for what we witnessed Birthed from the deep Striding toward our homes The village of Bon Homme We knew would be gone by morn Knowing naught what befallen us Only the fate of those to come
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Jan 26, 2016
Jan 26, 2016 at 6:40 PM UTC
The Village of Bon Homme
Red mist that night Unholy still Our ships pins marring That ocean like glass For the wind, all at once, had died I strode the deck, bashing heads As I must, such as men were Loosed sails that might May a breeze sort the lot Twilight had broke The first sight to fix me, My dearest new maiden wife Bon Homme she stayed Small miles west, whaling I must stay The next, stole my breadth The whole of the ocean rose Blending both sky and sea Where one began I could not tell But it's glass caught us up Brought us high, fearing to tip From wince it's cresting The very sea brought to waste Screaming to lash sail The words strangled my throat I could see them come Not one at first, but sprang Many as though they were the sea itself Tearing at decking, board and man Destroying, in mad waste A mass of scrabbling death The ocean bubbled, cursing its own fate Each parts aquatic fish, The dead men of a thousand years Drowned, and undead Grasping, ripping, and tearing at life In a moment I was thrown From faithful decking Knocking myself senseless upon the spar Suddenly in the cold To my men, in lifeboats tossed about Creatures, rose around us Twice the height of man A guffaw, almost laughter Before they opened mouths as one And cast their eyes upon us Behind their voices Like chirping of birds All black of wing A song, barely heard Just beyond its words With a menace of despair Too grand for comprehension The night darkened As the stars winked out One by one The entities, became one Tor'd Ul d'Chulp It bleed my ears as it spoke The ocean boiled around my little boat Inward I cowered when it spoke it's name It seemed to straighten If something of such great height could And turned away Our crew of six, nightmarish awe Our lifeboat then thrown about in its wake At which point, men screamed I know, for I was among them Not for our lot, now with the sea But for what we witnessed Birthed from the deep Striding toward our homes The village of Bon Homme We knew would be gone by morn Knowing naught what befallen us Only the fate of those to come
httphellopoetryacid-love
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httphellopoetryacid-love
Jan 26, 2016
Jan 26, 2016 at 6:40 PM UTC
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