The tongue of the angry sea burns
as it licks away at the barren shore.
Flotsam and jetsam,
refuse of six billion people,
human waste of six billion,
poison the deep with filth.
Rotting fish turn white, sparkling sands
into a black, putrid garbage dump.
Sea birds in their thousands
flock and eat of this toxic bounty,
then add their flesh to the spoil.
Mother Nature’s forgiving nature,
can no longer nurture
the starving, devouring multitude,
with her once overflowing bounty.
Yet hopeful fishermen
still go down to the sea
in wooden sailing ships.
Still go down to the sea
in rusting iron ships.
The sea waits patiently
and gathers power in its loins.
Waves gouge at the land,
crushing all within their path,
under its unforgiving heel.
Sharp, barbed harpoons,
pierce deep into soft, quivering flesh.
A baby killer whale weeps
as it’s mother dies in agony.
Whale pods that use to sing
in the sunlight of the morning,
now scream in mourning
on this day of genocide.
Oil rendered without need,
oil rendered because of greed,
burns in ten thousand lamps
and beckons the bloody killers home.
Flabby tummies are now tucked in,
held fast in hour glass perfection,
by whalebone, torn from living things.
Ambergris, mixed with rose oil,
hides the odour of honest sweat.
Girls covered by this death guilt
announce themselves to the world.
The unending bounty of the sea
has now forever ceased to be.
A hungry, crying throng
stands upon the decaying shore.
They shake their upraised fists
into the empty, silent sky.
This ravenous, destroying multitude,
weep, weep and wonder why
trawlers, once laden
with the bounty of the deep,
once filled to overflowing
with the treasures of the sea,
come back to them no more.
Keeper of the Sword 