Distant Shore

Traveling

I sailed an ocean that was the darkest blue,

where storms did constantly abound.

A roaring tempest of windy fury,

that tossed my ship about

Weary of that constant violence

I sought a harbor in which to rest.

But many miles that storm tossed me all about.

It mattered not to it how my pain did shout.

It drove me far across that turbulent sea.

Till at last after many days, 

It tossed me onto a distant shore so dark

I thought I'd left all I knew behind.

And indeed I had.

The grass that grew in the sand dunes there, 

was a dark and rusty brown that reminded me of blood.

The great ravens on the beach were yelling like the gulls.

My ship was beached, the crew were adamant

they'd not go back onto that sea.

Thus, spotting a path of grey dirt, we did set out.

We entered underbrush so thick that we could barely see the road.

Till it led us to a great city full of pyramids and towers.

A lonely place indeed, for we never saw one soul.

Fearfully, we crept forward hoping for some help.

Strange yellow moss grew all over everything.

The towers looked about to fall.

When we found an open door, only three of us slowly

went inside to look.

Funny shaggy rugs were strewn all about.

Not one person was within.

Nor were any signs there had ever been

For there were not fixtures, nor beds.

Nothing but one room and many rugs.

When we exited out again, the door slid silently shut.

A crewman gave a yell that he saw a taller tower.

We went to take a look.

Tall it was, and still standing, but wrecked.

Many stones had fallen out.

There was no door, nor windows to the place.

Below was rubble strewn about.

Not one of us dared venture inside.

For it was plain twas about to collapse.

Eventually, we reached the other side of the city.

The path lay before us once again.

Following it took back into the brush.

When we finally reached the other end

we face our very own ship.

It rested in a quiet blue harbor like we'd wished.

We ventured back aboard to find it like it had been before the storm.

Where we had been upon that strange shore was now plain rock.

Were we all sharing some strangely feverish dream?

I know not, but twere all the same from every man.

We were glad to set sail and leave again.

For we liked not that strange distant shore.

And I for one, wish never to see that place again.

Sharon Pribble

Author's Note

This poem became a story.

Reviews

[searchingpoet]

Very Lovecraftian.. I enjoyed it!