The Worm

Dread Fiction

Out of the mist,

A ship's prow loomed,

Astride the wheel,

The captain swooned,

A sea of skeletal ships,

Concealed by the mist,

What devilry was this!

The ships were barren, knarled, and withered,

Something had knawed them,

And teared them to smithers.

But lo, there off the bow,

A king's treasure lay,

Concealed in this cove,

Since that dreadful day,

A Spanish fleet,

It might have been,

Carrying silver, gold, and gems.

But what had caused this to happen,

Who's graveyard was this?

Thought the captain.

And there, there he lay,

Atop his hoard,

A sea worm, a Lord.

"Who comes?" It hissed and said.

"I am King and slayer of these dead!"

It whipped its tail and cut off the captain's head.

The crew screamed,

And fled as one,

The worm laughed,

And sneered all around.

"Look you," he said and pointed down,

"None have escaped and ever can;

I killed them all, with naught but this clawed hand."

For there they lay,

Victims of the past,

Some still clutched weapons,

And some wore the screams,

They had screamed to the last.

The monster rose up and up from his hoard.

"I am the Worm," he said with pride.

"Flee and die, or just die by my side."

Every morsel,

And tidbit he ate,

Every archer,

And swordsman with hate,

His eyes glistened,

The cold glint of death,

As he killed them all,

And then laid down to rest.

"I am the Worm, Lord of the Sea,

None can defeat me!" boasted he.

So he slept and sleeps,

Waiting still,

For his next meal to appear,

He lies on his treasure,

And guards it well,

If by chance you wake him,

You never shall tell,

Others of your fate,

Or of how you passed,

For you will be dead,

You'll have breathed your last.

Then he shall rise, Lord of the Sea,

And roar, "Who has the will or the might to face me?"