My Jolly Sailor Bold

She was sitting on the very edge of the mighty cliff, calmly, without a single movement; Enthroning above the wide ocean like a gracious statue.

Shady, emerald-eyes, unfathomably, mysterious and surreally beautiful, watching over the enraged sea, like an avenger angel. Distant screams were piercing through the approaching thunderstorm, the threatening shores. Men screamed for help, begging for mercy in the face of death. They were saying prayers, since they knew it was too late for any remedy. They were lost, lost in the furious tides. No one would ever recover their dead bodies; they were destined to lay on the ocean's murky ground- forever.

She watched the struggling sailors, listened to their desperate entreaties She wasn't amazed by these poor human's doom but highly disgusted by their recklessness to cast out their nets on a morning like this. Who could ever have ignored the signs of the approaching storm, who could not have taken notice of the conclusive evidences? It was all because of their pride. They didn't bother researching meteorological phenomena, didn't cooperate with the nature at all. Their "wisdom", their equality with God. Which God? This enigma who took her own people from her? He should have taught them better than that. But he hadn't, because he did not exist at all. But she was still there. She would not shed a single tear for these pathetic creatures, she would keep on sitting here, forever if need be, and have a good laugh about their miserable rites and smirked. Why did she even care about them drowning down there? They neglected her; They refused to believe in traditional acknowledgement, healing herbs or recovery by incantations. They didn't deserve her attention, her anxiety.

She shook her beautiful, porcelain head. No, she would not care about their fate. The Queen of the Old Ways watched a small sand-coloured fishing boat clash with a terribly sharp, grey stone- the sailors screamed in terror, the boat burst immediately. Her ebony hair was waving in the chilly sea breeze, shaking her very heart, making her shiver in pain. If we're forgotten, we cease to exist. A silent tear streamed down her frail-featured cheek, silently, almost unnoticed. We cease to exist.

He coughed, spat and squirmed. There had been water... everywhere. Smacking a nauseatingly salty taste in his mouth, he opened his eyes. A superlunary beautiful lady was bending over him, stroking his trembling chest. Her eyes appeared to be distant while at the same time she seemed to read his mind. Her hair was as raven as ebony, silky and long. Glittering waves flew over her perfect torso. As she sung to him, her voice was of gold;

My heart is pierced by cupid,

I disdain all glittering gold,

There is nothing that can console me,

But my jolly sailor bold.

'A siren, she must be a siren', was flashing through his mind, as he closed his eyes to abandon himself to this beautiful, surreal creature.

It had been a bit of fun, nothing less and nothing more. By the time she returned to the Old Ways realm, she groaned with exhaustion.

"Did you have a nice trip, Ma'am?"

"Proselytising strayed followers is a hard job, Frick", she sighed wistfully, "you should know that perfectly well."