They call the ship 'Burden,'
An indestructible vessel,
Rival to the monsters of the sea.
It's exactly what the people needed,
For you see,
In the depths lurked a beast.
Eighty tentacles, four trade ships tall and wide,
A hundred-thirty teeth when it's smile lied.
They called it, "Kraken."
It was nothing of the likes you've seen,
Emperor of the dark sea.

The Burden could hold fifteen hundred men,
Arming harpoons, cannons, muskets, wit.
The king ordered them to turn the seas red with gore,
Call forth the Kraken,
Strike it dead.
Then to the king,
They would drag back it's head.

So come high-noon,
The ship was in place,
Above the deepest of sea caves.
Letting forth crates of bait,
Staining the waters of the sea,
Until the sailors heard a rumble,
Shake the Burden's iron shell.

Up from the waters came long river's hell,
Tentacles like spires towering well beyond the sails.
But the crew held steady,
"Tighten the ropes, arm our cannons,"
Cried the captain,
"Then fire!"
The seas filled with blood,
The sky filled with gunpowder, fractured shells,
A shriek rang out from the deeps.
The cry of death,
From the Kraken itself.
Tentacles sinking away,
"The head!" Cried the captian,
So Lutenent Lucus dived after the creature.

Tied by a rope,
Pike in hand,
The creature's head,
He began to drag.
Though, glancing over his shoulder,
Through the murk he could see,
The form of a woman swimming away.
Some curse broken, he decided,
A soul freed from grim reality.

Peace.

unpaved roads
where will we go
tumbling between brick and brick
latching on to a shoulder sack
filled to the brim with burden
in it we found places for memory
places for love and hope
places for fear and pain
and a big gaping hole
for the ever growing grief
that never seems to fall out
so we head to the lake
and to the sea
because the rocks we hold
are too big to try skipping
across puddles

I fear a ghost has taken hold of me;
I feel its presence when I tend to wake
From eerie dreams that blur reality,
A haunting feeling that I cannot shake.
It steals from me the things I once enjoyed,
And leaves an empty feeling in their place,
As if my life were something to be toyed,
Then left alone and broken in its case.
I'm at the mercy of an angry kid
Who died alone, afraid and far too young.
Too scared to face his fears, he only hid,
And choked upon the words stuck on his tongue.
Shackled to him, I try but can't escape;
To bear the burden of his sins, my fate.

I could be talkative if I wanted to
but I worry that I might say the wrong thing
or say too much
or be annoying
I don't want to be annoying or too much
I don't want to burden people with
spewing words out
I don't want them to feel obligated to listen
so instead I shut my mouth
and become the quiet kid
therefore I won't be bothersome

I don't know.
I don't know what to write what to say how to say it how to be.
I have ideas.
I have people I could talk to about it.
I have it but I can't use it.
I could but that means opening up...
Opening up about something deep inside of me...
Opening up about my biggest burden...
Opening up about something hurtful...
Opening up about something I kept hidden...
Opening up about something buried deep...
Opening up about something I pushed down...
Opening up about something I ignored for years...
So I can't do it.

I plod on, with my

shadow on my back, flat and --


yet very heavy.

Baseless turmoil I have carried
       for you was faithless.
Aged me fine in my youth
       groundless.
No longer I was more sure
      about the lore.
No doubt it was offshore,
     I have to build my own floor.