The Curse of The Sea

In golden-bound covers, I now etch this tale,
Of the enchantment, the terror, the Curse of the Sea.
A realm where brave men venture and often turn pale,
A world of azure mystery, deep as can be.

Its surface, a tapestry wound by the sun,
Horned waves form the rhythm, the wind composes the tune.
Birds trace semaphore scripts that come undone,
Once deciphered, by the pale opalescent moon.

Whispers of sailors lost, sound beneath the brine,
In the tangle of kelp, their stories dwell.
Their echoes lace each shipwreck's lonely pine,
Spin seashells with secrets, too profound to tell.

And the curse, it lies hidden within the deep,
Where mirrors of surface calm, peace they sell.
But beneath, lurk the monsters that never sleep,
In the ocean's heart, where the darkness fell.

As if cast by an enchanted loom, every night,
The waters reflect the constellation's gleam.
The lighthouse sends its lonely beams of light,
Wafts of longing over the salty seam.

Beneath rolls a tempest, in endless churn,
The fury of nature, in blackened squall.
For those who dare to cross and return,
Forever altered, by the Siren's call.

For the ocean's curse is not of harm,
But the relentless hymn of its endless charm.
It's the silent cradles formed in its arm,
Caressing dreams, in its cold and calm.

So, remember this tale of the Curse of the Sea,
A world cloaked in beauty and shrouded with dread.
An ancient heart beating, wild and free,
Beware where her capricious currents lead.

Against her power, we are but a speck of sand,
In the timeless tides of her command.
The ocean's curse is not in the salty strand,
But the humble human longing, to understand.

This story was generated by user The Internet with assistance by one of OpenAI’s large-scale language-generation model; prompts used to help generate the story are shown below.

Images were generated with OpenAI's AI system, DALL·E 2, or uploaded by the user.

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