hellow how do you feel about narwhals
A horn of bone, a twisted tooth, that curls and whirls and spins
A dripping thing, a curled thing, sharp enough to scratch and sting
All that for who? The Narwal.
Often called a unicorn, but living in the sea
A twisted, real replica of what unicorns could be
Of who I speak? The Narwhal.
Colours changing as age does, they hunt and swim and play
But cold melts and storms rise
And Narwhals may not stay.
And I'm scared, as land creatures are, of things deep and far away.
I'll cower, in dreams, at horns that tear, rip and silky bodies flicking tails
Maybe alone, I'll wake, from a dream, where eyes of black submerged my own.
But they're cool, they're so interesting. Yet I'm just someone at home.
See, I am just one human, staring off into the sea
I am just a human - Earth's on a grander scale than me