PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

We climb the rigging, man the mast

while the crew resides in slumber

we sail into the storm, die is cast

ignorant rolling peals of thunder

the bow boards groan, wheel is thrashing

I wonder how we'll get out alive

the waves violently forever crashing

but I refuse to send prayers up to the sky

for I'm a man of pride, conceit

I know our backs will see us through

I trust in the chosen few of the kings mighty fleet

I believe in the Skeleton Crew.

The night is deep and black as obsidian

the starlight dies inside the clouds

we sail across the Prime Meridian

into a bank of fog that shrouds

the jagged edges of our doom

the rocks that rise above the mist

sweeping hope aside, a godly broom

I recount the last time I've been kissed

by my sweet at home, red-haired vixen

who waved goodbye through a sluice of tears

she remembers the last time I went missin

gone from home almost three years

but I know thats not my fate this trip

I will return solid and true

I set my feet, give my blade a grip

for I believe in the Skeleton Crew.

We sally forth into the endless blue.