Beached

This aquatic monolith lays lifeless on the shore.
Its leather parches under the scrutiny of the sun.
As I circumvent the spectacle, the viscera begins to greet my field of vision.
Its monstrous heart rests bare between pillars of ribs, halved, an exhibition,
Blood seeping out of its vast cloisters to corrupt the tidiness of sand.

A trickle of salts can be discerned where the moisture left the eyes.
Vertebrae emerge at points among the flesh to give the image some variety.
Crimsons, whites and greys stand stark against the beige and blue simplicity of the shore.

Its expression would not be best described as vacant,
Nor accepting, gasping or in anyway surprised. The word most fitting would be
Natural. On the rear, its limp fluke describes a mortal resignation. Breaking the
Water stands the perpetrator, an ominous looking structure of a black and whetted
Rock, blood still clinging to it, foam lashing where it meets the motions of the
Tide.

The heat draws up steam from the creature as its tissues and cells wither,
And return to where they came from: inexistence. People gather round, perplexed.
They are also helpless in the sense that they know they cannot help it now.
Words, sentiment and sense are beyond it.

What’s saddest is that this creature cannot know that it has done this to itself.

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