Oh forgotten jewel of the sea,
How long have you laid hidden on the edge of the world.
Surf and tides ever pulling at your bones,
Laying bare your secrets deep.
With ruins tumbling into the sea,
All we have are distant memories.
. . .
Voices sang across the sea to willing ears,
Where dryad sought peace upon a water’s reflection.
A being off the deep rose to your steps,
And spoke to your people undying.
For solace, you sang, lay just beneath,
The rippling waves at your feet.
So long sighted dryads closed eyes and opened hearts,
To a fate they will long live and remember.
. . .
Our ageless beauty did we forsake,
At the words of a prophet most false.
Ancestors will talk of our deception for ages,
Long after our majestic towers have crumbled.
As we walked willing to the deep,
Our Evenstars grew dark with lies.
Our hands clawed for the free air and clouds,
As hands thrashed into webbed fins so twisting.
The heavens grew dark as gills slit our necks,
And the very bedrock of our country forsook us.
. . .
Oh Parmara so forlorn let us not forget thee,
Your eyes forever beneath the sea.
With your subjects tied to stoney foundations long deep,
Buried in their anger and dread.
Now that you know take this warning to heart,
Look not upon the waters of this sea.
For eyes will roll and cords of the deep,
Will drag you to their world beneath..
Author’s note: January can be a tricky writing season for me. As chill winds and gray scenes seem to steal my resolve and inspiration, I challenge myself to fill my disquieted parts with fantasy. So for a moment, walk with me between these ruins and believe we are upon a journey most forlorn.
Michael is a husband, father, writer, poet, and aspiring author. He finds time to scribble down his thoughts in the dead of night, between ghosts and night owls. If you’d like to read more of his poetry follow the link here. Or to visit his full blog, ‘The Ink Owl’ click here.
One thought on “Parmara- Michael Erickson”
Thank you for sharing Michael. I really enjoyed the journey you described here and thought your fantasy moments fit well against the forelorn notes of the poem. Be well, as January is soon coming to a close.
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