All were awaiting the arrival of the watery serpentine Chaos with all her attendant furies.
Taken as a long-gone truth, she erupted from the volcanic sunrise, twisting painfully, intent on immense destruction, though always welcomed by the googily-eyed squid in their phantom reefs, that teemed with the unwanted secrets of the drifting tides.
Plucked lashes of the waves, foam with the orbs of forgotten shipwrecks, afire with a vengeance for the oil spills though with scruples gone, confessed to the hiring of attorneys and the fleecing of the whales.
She had tried to be friends, having always admired our salty globules of frightened eye wax, that howled with promises and dripped with the hope of fruit flies, but she was received only with the gratitude of granite.
Back to the depths she plunged: Now was not her time.