The splendor of sunshine,
Amidst light winds blowing from behind,
Where new shadows stood, and stare
Imply on heroics embedded in the air.
Convoluted demons gathered from around,
The world they climb up and sunk quickly down.
Into the lonely harbor of Port Royal,
Entrench history scar the archives file.
Where the graves of silver and gold lies,
Buried deep in vaults of foil mysteries,
many sailors turned out comfortless,
The fresh wind suggests a sweet forgetfulness.
Sleeping low in discard of disdain depths,
Dreams split the spray of piracy clouds,
And make tiny gems crystallize into rain drops.
Reminiscent and resonate like twisted ribbons,
In rhymes and waves wavering sinister emotions,
The greed died away, drowned the rum years,
Drum down treasures far below the sum of fears.
Withering dying light stretched across the lakes,
Where gloomy spirits waltz through untimely gates.
And fathom sphere spills out over the ocean.
Where the modern cruise ship camouflage veil
Sail amidst the straights and blustery gale.
Smoke trail of twin engine wing-tipped plane,
Maneuver hurriedly around the hurricane.
Pensive towards the sunken Vale of Port Royal,
wrapped in bleak mystic exotic portrayal.
Sunshine slipped away into jamming down,
Adventurous tourists shelter in Kingston town.
They slip and sleep under a meandering fan,
the chant of melody made the wildest swan,
dance with foot and hand rhythm strut everyone.
in this foreign land, a concept highly strung.
when the ancient breath of spirit come undone.
the phantoms snoop again in aggravated mood,
Their twilight driven force of passion was crude,
Timeless devastation sweeps chillingly from below
Evoke the distorted overturned debauchery row.
Wind-swept revenge voices blowing wild bubbles,
Rudder passed over towns and leap across lakes.
Mooring in bygone Port Royal shimmering world,
Haunted with the murky shades of curse gold.
The splendid haul of riches was sunshine dying,
to send the decaying light of silhouette flying.
With penance of hope further up into dark cloud,
Where the world of enchantment echoes loud.
The cry dies defining a line that gives restitution
Intervening events continues to haunt the island.