The Beast Of Sea Poem by Katerina Val

The red lines of the sea, bloodstained to me
subside before the hypothermia
of thousands crystal eyes

those glass surfaces are so unseen
but they crack ten epidermic times
when the beast of the sea calms its spirits

Agonised to touch the Hypocrites of the dark
again
it murmurs little croons of the sirens

and the mermaids die before they listen to them
through the void velvet night

But those blunt torn eyes, have drawn red circles on the sea
and the fire seizures of its movement
dance beneath its feet

it cannot walk again, the time is past
it cannot work again, the time has passed

the time is past
but the beast is made of sugar
its lungs, of dust, of cigarettes
and black sand
though

if you ever search for it
the beast rests under the sun
unfortunately unseen, fortunately sparkly
so if you ever search for it
the beast is burnt, undone
alone, happy
calm.