The day the last king dies...

One day in the not too distant future the last king of the Seven Seas, a mighty Blue Whale, will die. It will happen like this: one hundred feet in length, weighing two hundred tons, he is the largest creature that has ever lived on the planet. As intelligent as man, he out smarted this arrogant and ruthless descendant of apes for over one hundred years. In his youth, he learned to avoid ships with pointed bows and bloody decks, and ugly little men hunched over harpoon cannons, that slaughtered great whales by the hundreds of thousands. Throughout his life, he dodged fifty-mile long drift nets that drowned other whales and dolphins, leaving their bloated bodies to suffer the final indignity of being savaged by sharks. For decades, he swam through polluted seas, clogged with oil, and filth, and plastic; and in the twilight of his years, he struggled to find enough food in ever-warming waters to sustain his enormous bulk while other great whales slowly starved to death. Finally, one day when he can no longer find any others of his kind left in all the oceans of the world, he will close his eyes for the last time and in a sad and lonely silence slowly sink into the depths. Gone. Forever. And with his passing, humankind will have lost something it can never recover—its very soul.