Pangea I

I am the daughter of Atlas the King
leaning against the clean blue open shore
my fine almond feet drip and dangle in
I own all silky waves, the golden lore!

A plea of pardon for fortunes glamour,
as apart the right, calm life has broken,
amidst silent shrieking quiet horror, my life my love my heart was forsaken.

Look, the scales of rainbow fish are circled,
by not turquoise but black! sea too tepid,
reminded, my regal past was burglered
now the father's corpse floats in sour liquid.
I gulp hot ash and the mountains wounds gape
when the earths crust cracks and so does my fate.

Copyright Alma Lux Grossen. ︎︎ ︎