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Between the Rock and the Roar

Where Dolion’s shoals cut sharp as knives, And Lacedemon’s cliffs still glow, The sea there boils like a witch’s brew From the fire-fanged rift below. Steam rolls thick as a burial shroud, Salt burns in your throat—beware— For twelve bright eyes in the mist look down, And something hungers there. To starboard, teeth in a curtain of white, To port, the sea’s black maw— Pray to your gods, grip tight your helm, For neither shows you law. Oh, Scylla snaps from the boiling fog, Six throats and sixfold scream! While Charybdis drags the ocean down In a spiralling, swallowing dream. Turn from the rock and you’ll meet the roar, Turn from the roar—beware! For every sailor must choose their doom In the strait of choking air. She waits in steam with dripping fangs, Her laughter split in six, Each head a promise of splintered decks, Of rigging torn to sticks. Below, in chains that scrape the deep, The devourer gulps the tide— She drinks the sea to its very bones Then hurls it back in pride. Avoid the heads? The waters fall. Avoid the whirl? She feeds. Between the fang and the undertow Lie shattered hulls and pleas. Oh, Scylla snaps from the boiling fog, Six throats and sixfold scream! While Charybdis drags the ocean down In a spiralling, swallowing dream. Turn from the rock and you’ll meet the roar, Turn from the roar—beware! For every sailor must choose their doom In the strait of choking air. Rock and a roar, Mist and flame, Call it choice— It’s just a name. Port or starboard, helm held tight— All roads drown in boiling light. Six above and one below, Teeth that flash and tides that tow— Pick your terror, brave or wise, Both will claim their sacrifice. Oh, Scylla shrieks through steam and ash! Oh, Charybdis drinks the sea! One takes your blood, one takes your breath— But neither sets you free. So sing, you fools, of safer shores, Of mercy in despair— For here you’re caught ‘twixt rock and roar— And the sea does not care. Six shadows in the rising mist… A whirl beneath your keel… Choose your death, O captain bold— The strait will make it real.