A Watery Grave

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The envious storm hurled our ship into the dark abyss of the ocean.
Helpless souls were tossed overboard,
To be victims of Davey Jones’s locker.
The pouring rain felt like needles upon my skin.
I struggled to hold on to the railing,
As my grip loosened like nails from an old wooden board.
Horror was evident upon the pale faces of my fellow crew mates.
The storm, an act of Poseidon, was raging with fury,
Churning up its waves in hopes of leaving no survivors.
I then took what was unknowingly my last breath.
A powerful wave came tumbling towards me,
Hitting the ship like a torpedo.
I had no time to reflect upon what had just happened,
For I was immediately sent to the unforgivable depths below.
I was now a prisoner of the ocean,
Sentenced for an eternity,
Never to be seen again.





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