White Whale Serenade
White Whale Serenade stories
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cymbidium412
cymbidium412I enjoy writing poetry in my free time.
Autoplay OFF  •  a month ago
This is a poem I wrote a week ago. I want to improve my writing so I'm setting up this account to help motivate me.

Criticism is welcome

White Whale Serenade

Perhaps this sounds familiar, the beast I hunt for years

I followed through the country in a party of my peers

You could catch a glimpse or two before it scampers off

If you scorn away a scratch and make sure not to cough

Bet Bully Billy switched the sign, I bet he pulled a prank

And that Lady luck watched afar when I walked the plank

Then I fell into a meadow, and stumbled on a spring

So I camped around the treeline with all that I could bring

The weather was cool, she was calmer and greener

But old man winter stormed in and grew meaner

So I picked up my stuff and walked through the wicker

Thought on my way out I heard the man snicker

In the brush and broken trees the chilly air grew warmer

Swirling sand danced around like a strange performer

When grass gave to grains the glow grew a temper

So hot I thought it could not've been the weather

And I spent days with mayflies in a sea of glass

I wished for the silent sun to lose some of his brass

It's too late to quit, now, to fall upon my blade

Bow and submit to the white whale serenade

Once I thought the simmer wasn't all so bad, that

It was just the loneliness that tend to drive me mad

If I could find my footing then I could build a living

Took a scoop and found a skull, alors I quit digging

And one day the heavy sky lifted from its smolder

Felt like I was Atlas till it lifted off my shoulder

Wish I could say it lasted, but it settled back

Red and angry shattered glass wound up to attack

I've been walking through the sand long enough, my friend

To know this land is made by hand and leads to a dead end

Vultures circle ‘bove me, fighting for a lick

But I've been here forever so there's nothing left to pick

I should not have thought it was my quest in the silent seas of scorched unrest

To follow the beast without a vest, in the storms that seemed possessed

And now my bones, like hot stones, mark where my life left, though lingers-

the soul stays angry at the silent sun’s theft and curls out like dry fingers

I used to search these shiver sands and for this I have paid

Eternal march to the tune of the white whale serenade

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