I shelter the remains of rotting carcasses, hinting at once great seafarers, too cursed for their sins to be cleansed,
Doomed here in purgatory, whilst preying seagulls circle and claw at dwindling hope.
The tide carries whispers mocking the sheer vulnerability and fragility of human flesh,
Those I once trusted,
Those betrothed to a tide that came and went, leaving me abandoned and bitter.
Ahead a lighthouse blinks tauntingly,
Counting down the seconds ‘ til my rasping last breath.
I am Dungeness and my reigning days are over.
It ’ s done. Done. Done.
A Degrading Earth by Boaz Luk (8W)
Pollution! A Wretched of man ’ s intertwines!
A coming world engulfed in black mist -
Where a looming tulip withers and declines,
Where a clear, azure ocean does not exist.
Why ignore the pain of the Mortals ’ cries?
Why take Poseidon ’ s trident, a Keeper of the Tides?
Why parch Flora ’ s daisy, until it dries?
A perfect paradise and Hell collides.
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