Monday, February 27, 2017


there is an island at the sea
floating, almost silently
except for a microscopic change
of sub-aquatic breathing

the city floats upside down
a smile turned into a frown
it drips with smoke of eons past
the buildings they were made to last

now fish and vines and octopi
have made their home in tombs of men
a city of souls, and skulls and bones
of brick, mortar, lonely stones

above surface, a boat does reach
men stumble on hallowed dry land
they dig their spades into the beach
as captain stands and gives a speech

for treasure, glory and rewards
we'll rip this island's sand apart
so dig your spades, lads, in these sands
and dig till you bleed from your hands

a portal opens in the sand
something the men don't understand
they fall and crawl down to their knees
forgive forgive, forgive us please

a skull floats up from that black hole
its grin a leaky, dreary pall
av-e satanas it whispers to them all
as sand crawls up under their skin

they cry and bleed and beg for death
till they're coughing sand with every breath
it grates and burns and stings their skin
sand turns their blood to mud within

the city now has a few more thralls
it sups their life in drowned halls
the sea strips the skin from bones
in the tombs of men, once more alone

I had a vision of an upside-down, satanic city, floating at some unknown point in the sea and killing sailors that reach there looking for booty.

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