Many hundred years I have lain here,
Ocean ebbing against my scales.
Seeds brought by the wind took root atop my body,
So foliage blankets my back.
My claws dig into the sea bed,
My foundations stronger than those of a mountain,
Many a storm tried to shake me,
But still I lie here, still I will sleep.
An infestation of humans spread over the lands,
Those lands that I used to roam.
These creatures, where once they feared and hid in the trees,
Now live boldly and freely, blind to me.
How dare they?
Have they forgotten who I am?
Do they know no fear of me?
Since when did I, mighty catastrophe, not strike terror into the hearts of any creature to live upon this earth?
Since when did I, titanic force of flame and wind, not drive anything to flee in vain for hope of survival?
Since when did I, perfect balance of prowess and master hunter, not rule this world?
Now they think me an island,
An unmoving mass in the ocean.
They dare sail by on their weak boats as if they are unafraid to be near,
Forgetting the peril they would face should I flicker open my eyes.
Some even dare approach me, walking atop my plant-covered back,
Forgetting the deaths that will take them should I awaken from my millennia-long nap.
But for now I continue to rest,
Eyes lidded to the world of men.
The humans have until my third eye opens,
Whereby my conscious fully returns to this world.
But while it remains closed I continue to slumber,
So, beware human pests,
For I may now be asleep, unmoving, not dangerous, Soon I will not be so.
When it opens,
I am returned.
But now it remains shut,
And thus I sleep.
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