Deepest Waters Of Reflection, (From: Corsairs Of Old) Poem by Captain Cur

Invasion predisposes me to fate
challenges that have steady wore me down,
I look out from the crows nest and I wait
for that last glorious battle to be found.
I am the taunt sail that harnesses wind;
a tall mast that draws it's voyaging map,
a rudder that must hold to keep direction,
from this faltering height as my vision dims
I am chastised like a child on her lap
and punished for all past and future sins
engaged in the deepest waters of reflection.

Every man aboard loyal to our cause
not a one contemplating desertion
when the winds of life still we must take pause
rejoicing in the ills of our dejection.
With one voice we have made clear to the world
we are Corsairs and contest stronger lands,
the ocean our lover and protector,
our flag whipped hard, her message seen and heard.
Within our souls the template of our plans
to each, ourselves, we hold fast to that oath.
Raise high our swords! We are the new Conquistadors!