Old Weathered Artifact Poem by Lizzy Scott

Lost in the ocean,
The waves rolling and crashing
Tumbling over the weathered artifact
As it puts up with a bashing

Something lost,
Something never remembered…
The value is priceless,
As it heeds and surrenders.

The crashing waves
Are relentless in their teaching,
Determined to hide this forever,
Yet still it keeps reaching.

Wishing to be found,
The veil to be shed
Yet shrouded in secrecy,
This is where its delight is led.

Some have forgotten,
Some still seek
This artifact is perilous,
Yet still they strive and reach.

Washed ashore,
Lost from the waves grasp
Recuperating from the beating,
Contemplating an old rusty clasp.

An old weathered artifact
Laying isolated on a beach
Caught someone’s eye,
They wonder, and still they reach.

Calling to them,
Calling with its cold wispy voice
“Come pick me up”
Abiding, It is his own choice.

Chanting, ever chanting,
Appearing harmless
Yet perilous in its granting.
“Open me” it sings in delight

Granting the victim
Freedom, flight.
The joy is short lived,

An imaginary world ending
The harm has been done,
The tricked victim now knowing,
Knowing that it was always pending.

Its name now shed,
The story put in light
This is a daily thing,
Which is always in sight.

Appearing harmless
Yet filled with deceit
Its name is lies,
The story complete