Well? No ideas for a title. Besides, it is what the whole poem is about.
Totally rushed. I'm having this stupid sore throat, so my writing isn't flowing so well.
Relicanth
She descends among the tangles of brown-green ribbons
Amidst a world of undersea shores
And a million trails of bright bubbles
Mesmerising designs written on the ocean ceiling.
-
Eternally, silently, she rests on the fallen remains of her old home
Forlornly caressing the broken stones at the bottom
With frayed fins that can hardly push the water anymore,
Brushing just a little dusty debris from the surface of the rocks
Everything held in a complete shadow.
-
And she is still smiling, to see a world that cannot die,
A world that will forever live under her care, unending,
Not while she is still watching over it, the stony deeps
That have been her cradle, her habitation,
And perhaps will be her grave when the time comes.
-
She was there when life began to flourish at the beginning,
She saw every beginning and every end, of each creature
All of which had such little endurance against time
-
Slowly, the dust descended through the water, covering all
Robbing her world of light, and turning it into an empty waste
Nothing but darkness. Every colour was hidden by a blanket of grey.
-
Through it all, she was there. She was time's silent adversary
She saw herself through moment after moment,
Crossing the seconds and centuries with a stone-set face
And an unshattering faith of a time to come
-
A time when she would play this function,
Guarding her world from ruin, from being unremembered
While time's river wound into an ocean of forgetfulness,
Carrying the icy remains of everything else.
-
From the eras before, everything has been lost—
The designs of creation, their colours and moods
But as everything else fades into unremembrance, one world remains
Trapped under debris from later times, waiting to be found
Waiting dormant for its new age of light.
-
And so does one of its inhabitants, never sleeping, never leaving
Faithfully lying in the depths and jagged corners of this landscape
Until the day her term is done, and she is finally called to another world.