Beneath The Gasping Blue

Beneath the gasp of wave and sky,

Where sun forgets to send its cry,

I fell, not drifting—dragged by weight,

As though the sea recalled my fate.

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The world above grew dim, then drowned,

Its thunder muffled, distant, round—

A cage of water, vast and tight,

A tomb of silence choked of light.

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The pressure kissed my skull like grief,

My ribs compressed by ghostly reef.

Each breath I dreamed was stolen quick,

My thoughts turned slow, my heartbeat sick.

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A forest grew of bone and shell,

Where eyeless things in silence dwell—

Their tendrils brushed my skin like prayer,

But none the kind that gods would dare.

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I passed a ship, its spine half-broke,

Its flag consumed by strangling smoke.

And deeper still, past time’s own jaw,

I glimpsed what mortal men withdraw:

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A city drowned in sapphire stone,

Where pillars weep and coral’s grown.

Its towers slept in algae lace—

No king remained to guard the place.

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And there… she stood.

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A goddess veiled in reef and rust,

Her crown entwined with ancient dust.

A trident gripped in hand of gold,

Still fierce, though centuries lay cold.

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The sea had tried to steal her name,

To cloak her in eternal shame.

Yet light broke through, a holy thread,

And wrapped around her silent head.

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The fish all circled in her grace,

As though they knew this sacred place.

The stone around her sang, not loud—

But low, like storm beneath a shroud.

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And in that voice I heard the cry

Of all forgotten gods who die—

Not in war, nor flame, nor ice…

But in the drift of men’s device.

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Yet still she stands, and still she gleams,

A beacon deep in dreamless dreams.

And I, a man of blood and breath,

Found hope beneath the weight of death.

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For though the deep may drag us blind,

There are old fires the sea can’t bind—

And in the dark, where light was slain,

The lost shall rise, and live again.

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🪓 Like what you read?🪓

🪙 Then toss a coin into the fountain.

Make a wish —

for wilder words, sharper truths,

and more wild-folk with wild hair doing wild things.

Each offering stirs the water, feeds the fire,

and helps one such beast keep writing beneath the stars.

More Vivid Poetry From Ulf