Theophilus The Fisher

Heed now the tale of Theophilus,
a mortal fisherman by trade.
Who took vengeance against the Ocean,
bearing oath under his brother’s name.

“There is enough water in the sea already.”

Proclaimed Theophilus,
when tears were offered for his brother’s passing.
Although his face revealed no bias,
his heart seethed with human rage.

His body was stiff as his heart pumped poison,
His mind had already lost sight of the shore.                                                                                                                                                  
He vowed to hound her until she hurt
for taking his brother from him.                                                                      

With a bitter hatred, he dove off the cliff every day.
Burying his body in her bosom,
sinking into her chest.

His hands clawed and ripped,
His legs thrust and kicked,
He attacked each wave with a relentless fury
as if his futile rage could tame the elements.

In the moments between the Ocean’s breaths,
in those empty silences beneath the water;
when his limbs failed and his lungs filled with salt;
The Sea finally spoke to him:

He could not harm the Ocean,
He could not bring his brother back,
His anger would not lead to a bargain;
the Sea was not concerned with earthly tact.

Returning to his hovel,
he waxed his line and wound his reel.
As his rage set and a scheme arose,
Theophilus looked at the sky
and prepared to row.

If the Sea could return neither his feelings
nor his brother,
He shall take from her as she stole from him.

He’s hooked monsters before,
this will be no different.

So goes the legend of Theophilus,
now an immortal fisherman by name.
Who fished the Moon from the sea of stars,
as a means to an end.