The Boy Dressed in White

From up high in the clouds fell a boy dressed in white,

Plummeting down in a sickening, horrible plight,

Away from his home of comfort and light,

And into the darkness as deep as the night.



He seemed to fall for an awful long time,

And as he did so, his thoughts crowded his mind.

He couldn’t remember what had possessed him to jump,

But now he was falling, and there was no way back up.



He finally hit the cold ocean below,

And the harsh, stinging water filled his mouth and his nose.

It was impossible to breathe, impossible to see,

And there was nothing to hold on to, not even a memory.



Just when he thought his lungs would give out,

He heard a sweet song, and it spread warmth throughout.

He could open his eyes, he could breathe now, but how?

He looked for his savior, the saintly singer at sea,

To offer his gratitude, but that could not be,

For the singer had vanished into the deep.



Looking round as he floated, he gathered his bearings.

He turned his face up and there!

The light he so knew, up there above him,

And it faded so quickly, but he’d already caught a glimpse.



He swam towards the surface, but as he did so,

Something grabbed his right leg and pulled him down, down below.

He looked round in panic at what monster had caught him;

A tentacle, thick and gigantic, coiled tight so he could not swim.



A squid—no, an octopus—no, that wasn’t it either.

It was a kraken that’d caught him, a large, horrid creature.

He glanced down once more and his eye caught the eye

Of the kraken, whose mouth opened in a wide, gaping smile.

As he was pulled down below, something struck his hand.

Something soft and yet scaly, and coarser than sand.

And he looked up and saw a fish of all colors, a fish, small and shiny,

And it spoke with a voice that was thin, shrill, and whiny:



I’ll grant you a wish, said the colorful fish.

If you flatter me well, I’ll even save you from this.



The kraken was still reeling in the poor boy,

And he saw no way else out, he had not even a choice.

So he said to the fish, You’re as pretty as a pearl,

You’re the prettiest fish to swim in this world.



The fish was not yet satisfied,

So he searched through his mind for any compliments to find,

And again he praised the talking fish, I’ve never seen a creature like you.

Nothing quite as beautiful as you; nothing quite as clever as you.



The fish seemed as giddy as a little child, with all the vices of a child,

And, More, more, it cried, unable to hide its smile.

You are a lesser being, aren’t you; you’re nothing compared to me, isn’t that true?

And the boy knew nothing more to do than to hope the fish would save him soon.



The fish refused his compliments, always asking for more,

And the boy couldn’t help but feel he was nothing more than a cure for bore.

He became angry and alarmed as he began to doubt,

And the kraken still reeling him readied its open mouth.



He’d had enough of this fish, and he said this aloud,

Well, little fish, I hope you are proud.

How cruel it was to bring me hope when it was never your true intent

To give me any little help, only make me suffer to your heart’s content.



The fish was greatly, greatly offended,

And it swam off without even trying to defend it.



The boy was now so deep underwater,

He didn’t he could go down any farther.

The light had all but disappeared,

And the empty darkness, it filled him with fear.



He looked down at the kraken that was keeping him captive,

And he struggled, but there was nothing that made the creature unwrap him.

His arms were weak; there was nothing to hold on to,

And in his heart, there was nothing but rue.



The creature’s eyes, large and round,

Followed him hungrily as he was pulled down

To the kraken’s wide mouth, the gaping doors of Hell,

Where he would meet his end forevermore as he fell.



As he stared into the deep abyss,

Something ignited in him, something impossible to miss,

And it burned deep inside him, a blaze, not a flame,

And he had the great urge to proclaim the skies in his name.



He looked up at the surface, where slightly he saw

A dim, shallow light; just enough, heaven’s call.



So he twisted and turned and wriggled himself free,

And the kraken, it bellowed, sent ripples thundering after he,

He, who daringly, fearlessly wanted to be

More than a prey, a prawn, poor piteous piece

Of meat worth no more than a dime on the streets.



So he swam and he swam, he swam up to the light,

And though his heart pounded, it was nothing from fright.

Each stroke seemed tenfold harder than the one just before,

But he told himself he would make it to the shore.



He didn’t look behind him; he knew what he’d see,

The kraken, still chasing what was not its to keep.

He looked up to the light, and it was all that he needed

To keep pushing forward till the ground touched his feet.



He finally broke the water’s thin surface,

And though tired and aching and horridly breathless,

He felt so much lighter, like a feather floating on air.

It was a moment so precious, so simple, so rare.



Slowly, he turned his face up to the sky,

And as the sun smiled he felt tears in his eyes.

He saw the white clouds where he’d been all his life,

And he finally remembered why he’d left it behind,

For now he was finally, finally free.