An anger lying flat
On the cutting board
Grabbles its fin in the air
With the vile eyes
Lost their focus.

The tip that once had been
A shining guidance
Through the cold, blinding sea,
Now sags its pillar
Lower than its own misery.

Man’s blade sharply stabs
Its belly-
Halving the grand bottom
Before the pain even surfaces.  

Through the fish’s fissure,
Its orange, glowing guts
Slip out-
The liver, the heart, the kidneys-
A avalanche of what used to be
Remnant of life.

Then the maw.
Once a ruler of
Coarse sandy bed
Gabbling the dot lives,
Now chopped
As chunks of flesh.

‘Ah- this is it.
Served as a mere food
For men to eat,
This is where my
Kingdom comes to end.

Those empty halls
I stride through
Now only a
Glimpse of memory-
I close my eyes.’