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Alright, I don't know what it is with me and long oceanic ballads recently. If you don't like long oceanic ballads with tragic elements, I apologize. This one is actually linked to the very different one I wrote on day 17, and I actually might write more poetry that adds to this set of stories.
The Terror of the Sea Day #19
Mist rises where the ocean hits the sand
A shadowed figure rises from the foam
What is this scourge upon the coastal land
That it should freely in the village roam
Mist follows where the shadowed scourge presides
And fishing lines hang useless from the dock
The beach more barren than at highest tides
And whispers in each home replacing talk
Mist penetrates an attic’s feeble walls
An aging lady and her daughter’s son
Reside within, and at the sight she falls
As pale as bones bleached on the sand by sun
Mist creeps to shroud her form senseless and still
And rushing in, the youth freezes in fear
Full knowing he must face the source by will
To free her and the others living near
Mist pouring through the weathered wooden chinks
He forms a plan and braces not to flee
The nearness of the fiend makes his heart sink
But tenfold is its power by the sea
Mist towers menacing and welcomes in
The vague and awful shape from depths unknown
It reaches out, to strike him down and win
The youth’s sole weapon is himself alone
Mist halts at his resolved yet shaking voice
For of the lore he knows to beg a trade
For all the rest offers himself by choice
Taken to satisfy a debt unpaid
Mist drifts away above the mellow waves
The village wakens as from weeks of night
The boy below alive and suffering slaves
To grant his home another span of light