The Beasts of the Blue

There is a mysterious land far from our reach.

We see it—yet are blind to its wonders.

A sea of intangible hills soaked in bleach.

And smooth, wispy cream concocting incredible colors.

Some people like to stare at the sea above,

Pretending to see peculiar creatures.

But do not be fooled, for when I see a dragon they see a dove.

There lies a plethora of beasts with uncanny features.

Some days they roam in the clear,

Other days they cower into their ivory fortress.

Sometimes you hear their bellows of rage or fear.

And their cascading tears drown us with a melancholy chorus.

And on the weariest of nights,

When the air is damp with tears.

They descend to the earth like loathsome parasites,

Swimming around like smokey smears.

Until at last the sun breaks through,

And purifies our dreary land.

Then the beasts slink back from our view.

As to obey a command.