Miles Harrington, Period 8, 3/3/22

 Miles Harrington Period 8 3/3/2022

Modern Mythology 2022 Creativity & Fiction:

Earth groans, creaking as it sighs its final breaths

Crackling flames and uneasy tides disrupt death’s quiet musings Uncontent as ever, the ocean beat against its mother’s side;

Till sea foam clotted with red

Distantly, I could feel dread creeping through me

But tender fingers snake their way into mine, and I remember; There is room for two at the edge of the universe

And so you guided me gently up our desolate island,

Till we were swaddled by starry-eyed sky;

And I laid my head against your heart, breathing you in

Your hold finds its place on my hips, and our footsteps fall in line

There we waltzed, till a hand cradled me in its yearning embrace

You dipped me then, and enamoring eyes shone amongst the constellations Shy laughter bubbled out, and I was loved

Drunk on emotion, our movements turn loose and excited

Only when you spun outwards could I taste the salt on my tongue

A sudden tremor clenched at my chest, and from my useless position, I watch unholy terror distort your features

The ground divides us, and I reach out with a shriek;

But splayed fingers catch around my gaping mouth,

And you’re sent plummeting towards hungry seas

The ocean crashed, as did my knees into stone

Agony tore its way through me; violent cries condemning my carelessness There I wept till even the ground below became weary,

The cliffs solid structure eroded from eons of sea and tears

My throat was raw, yet I choked out your name

My dear, if you are truly fallen under,

I pray sympathetic winds carry my grief as thunders;

So maybe ungrateful deities will huddle together, intimacy born of fear; and realize what love they took for granted