(no subject)
Peel back the armor and cast aside the shield, and see the beating heart inside.
Like an ocean vast and unpenetratable, I was deep and calm. Cold and empty.
Ships sailed, setting out on bold journeys, only to be sunk beneath my cruel waves.
Every sailor who hoisted his sail upon my sea drowned in the depths of me.
Time wore on, and the continents shifted and closed in around me, and I was no longer a vast ocean.
Like a shallow lake on a cold afternoon, you skipped and dropped stones in me.
Little tokens of you left deep inside of me. Forever pushing the surface closer to the bottom.
And you piled up, and soon the rocks jutted to the surface, and I was no longer a lake.
Like a raging river, dodging past each rock rupturing the current, franticly trying to avoid impact.
Little icebergs sinking every ship that attempted to sail down through the pass, the rocks with no mercy.
Debris piled up, and block all inlets and outlets and my waters became muddy and stagnant. I was no longer a river.
Like a swamp I was avoided by all but the desperate, a place of misery and loss.
The moss grew over the rocks, and soon trees grew up around, stretching out their arms to block the light.
The trees drank thirstily from me, and I gave willingly, and soon my depth and width was gone, and I was no longer a swmap.
Like a puddle, I lay here in the dark, clinging to a handful of pebbles beneath my surface, and footprints in the mud all around me as people step in and out, as they will.
I was an ocean.
Like an ocean vast and unpenetratable, I was deep and calm. Cold and empty.
Ships sailed, setting out on bold journeys, only to be sunk beneath my cruel waves.
Every sailor who hoisted his sail upon my sea drowned in the depths of me.
Time wore on, and the continents shifted and closed in around me, and I was no longer a vast ocean.
Like a shallow lake on a cold afternoon, you skipped and dropped stones in me.
Little tokens of you left deep inside of me. Forever pushing the surface closer to the bottom.
And you piled up, and soon the rocks jutted to the surface, and I was no longer a lake.
Like a raging river, dodging past each rock rupturing the current, franticly trying to avoid impact.
Little icebergs sinking every ship that attempted to sail down through the pass, the rocks with no mercy.
Debris piled up, and block all inlets and outlets and my waters became muddy and stagnant. I was no longer a river.
Like a swamp I was avoided by all but the desperate, a place of misery and loss.
The moss grew over the rocks, and soon trees grew up around, stretching out their arms to block the light.
The trees drank thirstily from me, and I gave willingly, and soon my depth and width was gone, and I was no longer a swmap.
Like a puddle, I lay here in the dark, clinging to a handful of pebbles beneath my surface, and footprints in the mud all around me as people step in and out, as they will.
I was an ocean.