Canvassing the forgotten sands
of centuries shipwrecked by war,
I call to time and make demand
and push back the blood soaked door.
I stand witness to my own death
forsaking grace and soulful peace,
crying out with foul brackish breath,
grasping life with rebellious reach.
I will have my ship and my crew
rotting from the depths of the sea
fitted for war, I swear anew,
relentless purpose driving me.
Collecting pieces of my soul,
I rebuild features of my ship,
broken clinging to craggy shoals
rising up the Malevolent.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You collect the pieces of your soul & begin the sea man's yarn, we are ready to constitute our poetic faith, to procure our willing suspension of disbelief -Captain!