Poseidon's home sways with the water's
breeze, swirling bubbles and seaweed cocooning
a historical fantasy. The owner
of the oceans, it becomes a place of
refuge for the lost souls looking for beauty,
and every life force in existence is
prized at its worth. Swathes of coral, green, blue
and yellow undulate with the sand and
live, breathing in their silent protest as
they begin to be killed by our wretched
humanity. Our need to seep into
every orifice of the land and control
the very atoms which compose beauty
itself is what has created the complete
death of beauty, taking over this place
and corrupting it. Brown and black may as
well be red, for they are the land's blood. That
home of Poseidon, watcher of the
world and owner of the oceans, it did
not deserve to be murdered by a race
of idiots who were blind to the beauty
they were destroying.