Day after day I was tossed by motions,
Of her wavy seas, her seductive dark oceans.
Sipping on potions, π·
Until we fell out of sync.
The chain apparently had a weak link. π
Son of the dark,
My ship now loose from the mooring. π’
In seas of self doubt I ended up touring.
Was steering according to an erroneous map.
Yes, the brave and young sailor had started to slack. β
The wind and the rain,
On the ship put a strain.π
A solitary life raft my refuge.
Idle and ignorant, no at the mercy of the deep.
Wondering how I could never survive this deluge. π
But storms do pass... β
Now on this boat,
I still feel hope. π
A gallon of fresh water,
And a pound of rope. β²
And from under the rope,
a scorpion came. β
She spoke with a drawl
When she said my name. π
I was in pain,
Will she bring me pleasure? π
Thinking of things we could do than just leisure.
She might grant me release if I handled her right? π
Heavenly bliss?
Or eternal night? π
Got too close she stuck her sting.
But being numb to it all I didn't feel a thing. π
Crazy from hunger and rabid with thirst.
A quick death is tragic but a slow one is worse... π
-Mickolas
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