For centuries legends have been told
Of ocean waves rough and bold
Icey waters a whipping cold.
Legends of the krakens hold
Them few return after having the misfortune to behold.
They speak of 8 tentacles rising from the sea
Crushing man with no escape wanting to be free
The galley of the ships ripped and torn to little bits.
While the captain sinks, he sits with his doomed ship.
The ocean tide has rip but nothing like the krakens brisk
Crackling flames adorn the ship as the whale oil tips
Pearlescent eyes black as thunder
Proportion that makes the moon minuscule over yonder
What tales beseeched was the colossal size of this octopus' reach
Only but one man would wash upon the beach
To tell and teach of the ships demise
And those thunderous eyes.
Glistening seas. Seize a sense of wonder.
The curse of the voyage and the desire to plunder.
The kraken lurks in the deep dark blue.
Waiting for me and you.
To a sail a cursed ship.
Afflicted by the wisp.
So, when you look out into the water.
Remember the kraken and its bloodthirsty slaughter.