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By Emmanuel Williams

May 18, 2026

*

We sailed a fortnight

Covered in rain

*

The men aboard my ship

Kept relics under their beds

In their arms

Clutched to their chests

*

They had heard of the lady

Standing in the sky

Dressed in white linen

Who kept them alive

*

The calm was her blessing

A sign of her favor

But storm or disaster

Would force them to prayer

*

All through the journey

They worshipped her, Tide

I knew it meant nothing

Their faces sheets, white

Drunk with supplication

Adamant adoration

Bones of great fish

Littered each recreation

*

I saw a man cut himself

Knife on his left brow

A great laceration

“Tide will help us now.”

*

Another tied rope

To the skull of a bass

Dipped it in the sea

And started to dance

When he pulled the fish free

He held it to his face

And began to thrash ever

So crass and so fast

Till he tripped on his rope

And ran into a mast

On his knees he thanked Tide

For healing his madness

And that

Was the last of it

*

At an island port

I invited a monk

To sit with my men

And discuss their logic

*

They sat far apart

Mistrustful

And doubtful

*

He said “there is one

And he is not she

This girl you beseech

Is a lie

From the sea.”

*

Insulted they revolted

He bolted, disgusted

And wound up

On his knees

*

They stared as he prayed

Saying heaven would save him

If only his sins

Did not weigh on his conscience

The pain in his face

Could have weakened the ocean

*

A brave man impaled him

With spear through the belly

“We do not need his misery”

I did not agree easily

*

Neither did others

Who flew themselves over

With doubts of their own

Without warmth in their souls

*

And we came upon storms

That blew our sails loose

So they cried to their Tide

And I listened obtuse

*

For the monk made me question

The heart of my passion

Did I truly seek heaven

Or only safe passage?

*

Our final voyage

Should have brought us home

But we misnavigated

To a place none had known

*

The night was still strong

As we found a dark beach

Dropped anchor to think

And plot out our leave

*

We were yelling and screaming

And could not make sense

Of the points we were making

Our ship tossed, shaking

*

And I peered toward the beach

For a moment of peace

And I saw to my horror

A thousand men or more

Face down in the sand

With fish bones in their hands

And ropes binding skeleton

Never to return

*

“Tide!”

*

I forced my way through them

Fighting their sleeves

And their arguments 

Waste!

And I looked at my men

And the dead on the shore

And left them aboard

As I dived over the edge

*

I can still see them staring

Scorched with confusion

As their captain fell

Leaving them to ruin

*