Some tell tales

Of creatures of the sea,

With glossy pearl eyes

And a chilling breath of mist,

Who’s symphonic charm can be heard

Even in the tiniest of conch shells.

They say “you sing of a symphony

Using a conch as a microphone,

And the fluorescent scales of your tail 

Turn a pearly blue-green,

As your melodic voice travels through waves.

Beckoning each sailor with a tempting tone;

The siren of the deep.”

But in that pearly sea

I hear a great symphony.

It whispers through a conch shell

Each breath with water-filled lungs;

“One day the mist will clear, and the moon will shine,

And you will be nothing but glittering seafoam 

Floating lifelessly in the silky moonlight.”

The voices…

It’s the voices of the people I’ve drowned.

But the worth of pearls

Precious to the unforgiving sea,

Could never pay back the price I paid

To become a monster of the great blue

With a melody as loud as a world-class symphony 

In a conch-shaped heart, with many songs left to be sung.