Who is it who seats themselves in the small blue chair?
All alone sits he, alone and await.
They all hope it is not too late.
Carter's sanity is going fast,
Just as a figure emerges atop the mast.
The mast of a vessel belonging to the darkest of markets.
As Carters sanity races away,
So does he himself on his very own pony.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
LOL I LOVE IT,10++++++++++