Across the sea, where white waves crash there cries
A flock of gulls that warn of coming wrong
And sing their praises sweet as siren song
Amidst the broken wreckage of their lies
For all to see their spite, they so despise
Yet still for our great white-winged ships we long
To sail for deadly shores where we "belong"
According to that song that mocks the wise
And now, I say to you a traveler
Be warned be wary of that island sweet
And nary be a night-time reveler
For you and all that island will defeat
And even if the wise held palaver
They'd gladly go to grisly death there meet
-
Author:
Reivax Camlost (
Offline) - Published: March 1st, 2017 08:04
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 32
Offline)
Comments3
Great write
A good write, but a non-existent day - the title!
Lol yeah, you're right... But I think I'll leave it that way. It adds to the mystique.
The old palaverer that I am enjoyed this.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.