When I was stuck on a stormy sea,

An ugly mermaid came to me.

She rose from the deep in bounds and leaps,

A creature where the darkness creeps.

She wore a smile, all charm and grace,

But lies were stitched across her face.

Her pearly fins, her shining scales,

A mask to hide her truth so pale.

She thought her eyes, so white, so bright,

Could blind the world to her true sight.

She thought her beauty gave her power,

Yet all she did was bite and glower.

She called herself the ocean’s queen,

But ruled with cruelty, sharp and mean.

No kindness flowed within her chest,

Only hunger to be the best.

She mocked, she sneered, she snarled, she bit,

Yet never owned a flaw in it.

She made the ocean’s creatures weep,

Then scoffed when they would beg for peace.

One day she struck a harmless fish,

Who swam alone, no fight, no wish.

She never paused to see her wrong,

Just carried on, still proud, still strong.

Then came a ship, so bold, so grand,

Its sails stretched wide, its course well planned.

She tried to lure the men inside,

But they ignored her—steeled, dry-eyed.

So she spat words, sharp as a spear,

But none on board would shake with fear.

Her rage boiled hot, her pride ran deep,

So she raced the ship across the sea.

She surged ahead, she thrashed, she swore,

Determined to be something more.

But in her madness, blind with spite,

She failed to see the rudder’s might.

The ship rolled on—unstoppable, vast—

And crushed her where the shadow cast.

The sea grew still, no voice, no trace,

Only silence in her place.

For all her boasts, her blinding pride,

The ocean never took her side.

A queen in name, but not in heart,

And so the sea tore her apart.