Upon the cliffs where shadows cling,
A creature waits, a cursed thing.
Her many heads, her gnashing teeth,
But sorrow hidden far beneath.
Once a maiden of grace and light,
Her beauty gleamed, her spirit bright.
But envy’s spell and cruel deceit
Turned flesh to bone, and joy to grief.
Now sailors scream, their faces pale,
As she emerges, fierce and frail.
They see the beast, the savage guise,
But not the tears within her eyes.
She strikes to live, not to destroy,
Her hunger void of wrath or joy.
Yet no tales told of her despair,
Just demon in her lair.
If only they could hear her plea,
“Would you not fight, if you were me?
Condemned to hunger, trapped in strife,
What choice remains, except for life?
This world is quick to name and blame,
To bind the lost in chains of shame.
But monsters, too, we bear a heart,
A shattered whole, a fractured part.
So pause before you cast your stone;
The fiercest fight is fought alone.
In every shadow, light may hide—
Look deeper in, see past the tide.”
2025 ©️
The Royal Octopus 