The River was dredged in multitudes,
A shadow of foreshadowing,
Against the mud and ichor, the servitude,
...The mass of bodies that came to floating,
Each face found lifeless, frozen genocide,
The peace in death, lost senses,
Against the tides the Moon hadn't faced,
The creeping stigmata, relentless.
Each one found their own disgrace,
The shocking scene of horror,
Left aversion in each innocent face,
Disturbed, the fishermen who found it
To be gentile in its own way,
The bloated faces rotting,
Beautiful in their decay.