The call
As their descendants,
the waves call us.
The sea calls for us to return.
To enter the frozen water,
that nips our skin and paints us blue.
The tang of salt is piled on our food,
And each time we crave more.
It’s a taste so familiar.
The moon calls us to the shores.
To strip off our skins and dance.
Oblivious to the chill of prying eyes.
Just as they done long before us.
That’s why we are stranded here.
In the past they were naïve.
They were all to easy to steal from.
Without their skin they were beached,
Unable to return to their home.
Trapped to live on two legs,
To search for their stolen furs.
Until they could no more.
We were born from those imprisoned.
Born with one skin;
When we were promised two.
We can submerge ourselves,
But we cannot dive deep,
to return home as the cries command.
The sea weeps for us,
To be returned to her embrace,
And for our stolen ancestors.
As their descendants,
The waves call to us-
The lost ones.
-A.L.Tucker
Thank you for all the support throughout this month. I hope the support continues far into the future. Comment down below what myth you think this poem is based on and let me know what you think.
A.L.Tucker 
❤️
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