Mr. Fred's Poetry Corner: The Thing

If I do say so myself, I really like this one.

The Thing

1.
Pressure building,
Grey skin fast
Against the terrors of the deep,
Dark shape
In ice cold water,
Quiet, peaceful . . . another world.

2.
Muffled voices,
Souls consumed in better times,
But now the tension is complete.
The thing can neither breathe
Nor eat, but only be
In placid vigilance.

3.
Diving now,
To dull depths descending,
Leaving only gentle foam,
Rising, disappearing.
No sinister purpose, it glides
Now half asleep: all savage innocence.

4.
No enemies,
Save what past and future be.
Strength to crush entire realms,
The ruler of the sea,
And of men’s fates.

5.
Sensing others of its kind,
It takes no notice, majestic,
Undisturbed in its long journey.
Blunt nose and tapering tail,
It is dead, and yet it moves
With restless energy.

6.
Dead eyes, but unknown power
To sense, to find, to receive.
The fire in its belly,
Quiet now, awaiting a signal
That only it will know, and then,
With will and spark,
It will seek to destroy.

7.
Grey skin, fins are
Making small adjustments,
Driving now, not predator,
Not prey, but subject to either condition.
Its passage noticed by lesser creatures
Who move away instinctively.

8.
Coiled to spring
If given ruthless meaning,
Waiting, with supernatural patience,
Never losing focus, attentive,
But even it cannot bear its
Tense reality without respite.

9.
More it cannot bear,
Ascending now, the pressure less and less,
In growing light, it breaks the surface,
Crashing! Thunder!
The endless tension exploding, in the light now,
Taking on the attitude of a pleasure craft,
Making idly for shore.
The sea settles and the thing appears at rest.

Anybody catch the quote from "The Crow?" I love that line.