Death of the Lochness Monster

I once thought I could make it home Since I laid rope to walk upon. It rose up high and took my life And ripped my bowels like a knife. The groping talons cut my throat And threw my heart into a boat. With nothing left but scattered seeds Each bloodied leg fell in the weeds. The gaping wound held ragged shape Rich layered canvas formed a cape. Thick fluids spread upon my face Successively close breathing space. Each tentacle lay down the brush All sails lay down to end my rush. I saw a light and I could climb They led and sang our monster rhyme.