I am bound to the sea belonging to my father, to swim within the unseen. Fathoms you are not aware of-your human world cannot compare. Deep beneath the sea, I am imprisoned. My father is King, and so I must carry on with that.
I am well known by the Gods for my melodious beauty, proclaiming my voice to be as gentle to the sound of the wind, my eyes with a vivid earthy mixture of blue-green, hair pristine white as the radiance of the moon, a light skin tone, and a lean, ideal bone structure; Poseidon's (God of the Sea) fair human-formed daughter.
During one of father's formal, social events, they would praise me as "gioia del mare!" or "l'essenza della gioia!" but I feel as though I can't compare.
Beneath the dark waters, away from the sun, from the singing, from the shouting, I place myself here on a mounted sea rock, peering towards the surface while I wait for my father's return. Sometimes it might take days, perhaps even weeks, but the transmitted clash of the