WARNING! The following page contains spoilers for the lore of Worlds Adrift
You must not fear him, but look him in the eyes.
Eyes liek marble ribbons.
Where the flowers dance,
and the gibe do gibble with the free trees -
who long to be slain and replanted.
How wide your own eyes grow,
when you see his men parade and swish.
He welcomes you,
let your belly be full and round with wine,
in the swirling honey sun
sets the white daub walls.
Sharp spinels flaunt themselves and stars lay you on your back.
A pig's head, a goatbear's whistle, all upon the table lie,
for it is at dinner where he catches your eye,
and your reflection haunts his hall of mirrors!
The pirate king, his sapphire stones and the gardens sweet with peach trees, and figs that overwhelm ripely.
Yet darkness stews in its mildewed corners, and the rates scratch at grot.
The crabs scuttle in the coral twines, and broken shell spines pile up sickly.