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The Great of wars

Fought in narrowed trenches

millions who have died

Hand to hand in the mud

The Great of Wars

Fought on endless oceans

thousands who have died

through imposing weapons

In the open broad Pacific

On a grand supercargo

Captured by the huns

After lacking discipline

He was free on the sea

Waking up to a dream

A transformation of scenery

A slimy hellish black mire

trapped in cloudless cruelty

The inky marsh beneath his feet

carcasses of decaying fish

a barren immensity

not a faintest noise of ocean

He crawled into the stranded boat

thinking or brooding for several hours

there before his eyes must lay

a ground hidden for several million years

maybe

an unprecedented volcanic eruption

no sea to go back

no sea-fowl to prey upon the dead fish