Kyle Massak

The Moon slowly crept over Castine

and with that, the tide quickly crawled from the sea

the small, humdrum town couldn’t have anticipated

the fact that death was unfortunately fated

the force behind the waves was enough to break

down their doors and in return provide heartache

those who were sleeping serene with tranquility

drowned from the salty sea water, seldom survivability

sinners and saints all died the same

the night that death had come to claim

In the church, the choir sang songs sung

the ocean silenced their musings with water-logged lung

those without homes sought sanctuary

their vain attempts at saving skin proved unnecessary

the pious prayed passionately for power above

the secular were devoured, religion not thereof

secrets remained still hidden from the light

darkness swallowed the town, water had benight

lighthouse keepers watched in terror

as the waves swept away the town, the error

the blemish of buildings blotting the coast

now all that remains are husk of houses and ghost

tortured souls who couldn’t outrun the wave

there wasn’t one anyone could save

all of those people deemed to die by the flood

paid the price by mixing the sea with their blood

corpses carried away by the aqua binds

devoid of life, now possessing dead minds

And it must be said the sea didn’t discriminate

the tide took all those who had hate

the town had been wiped out, effectively blank slate

The town purged of people, perfectly pristine

Nobody will remember those lost in Castine