Brazen Shore

On a brazen shore

In southern Alabama

Thousands of years ago

Where false idols fell

In a barren waste

By a rocky cairn

By a boat's dried ruins

By a sun-bleached skull

There washed the waves

Of a long dead storm

Which spilt the blood

Of a kinder soul

Than any now walked

That wilted beach

With greasy kelp

And slimy fish heads

When a ray of sun

Broke the clouds' dark pallor

And a child walked free

For a moment.

It was a start.

Beginning of the end.

End of the beginning.

The death of death.

Miles O'Neal