Ocean's Cry

     Long time ago, before humans knew how to survive in this world, before they could settle and make a living, we, the oceans, were just fine. We danced with the fish, guided the turtles to the seashore to have their babies, laughed with the dolphins and listened to the whales' lullabies.

But on the land, humans learned to use fire. Learned to build tools and houses. They learned to make boats that'd take them farther into our waters to hunt our fish.

Humans saw in our immensity an endless opportunity so they started to take more of the life in us. They started to kill more of our friends, not only to eat them, but also to trade as if they didn't have a soul, as if they weren't alive before they took them way from us... as if they didn't deserve a little of respect.

We started to fight back, at every side of every land, but we underestimated humans and their ability to grow bigger, stronger and crueler.

We raised in storms so their boats would crash, but they came with bigger and more indestructible ships.

We lured them away from our friends, but they left fishnets in us, making our waters unsafe for every creature under the sea.

They grew in number and weaponry, as we kept losing more of our friends. However, killing every creature in our waters wasn't enough for them. They weren't done destroying the world we created under the surface, so they brought poison. They filled our waters with colourful, crushed, weightless trash that refracted the sunlight like rainbows after the rain. They threw ropes that tangled every creature in their deathbeds, they shot little hollow arrows in different colours that stabbed them and din't let them breathe, they gave us plastic bags that wrapped around the animals like a second skin... and we couldn't do anything about it. Without hands to handle human's artefacts, we were useless.

Humans filled the home we made with plastic poison, colourful and in all size and shapes, outnumbering the living creatures. Faster than in a nightmare, we held more trash than life. We weren't just their hunting playground anymore, we became their dumpster.

We cannot fight them, for they are stronger and more resourceful; we can only scream in rage, raise in waves that can't even scare them anymore. We mourn our sorrow for every loss and let the wind carry our cries.

We don't dance with the fish anymore, we try to hide them. We try to persuade the turtles to stay away from the shores. We tell the dolphins to stay quiet and the whale's lullabies only sound like crying for help. We are just dying, buried in human's garbage, scared that soon there won't be any space in us... for anything.