A Taste of Madness
Waves stir the ocean, sails upon the seas,
Broken destiny captured by the breeze.
Floating ever onward with the waves it splinters
Crashing amongst the salt and foam he stands in the center.
The waves do not catch him he rides them well,
Rotted flesh; he worries not over the smell.
Scattered bodies, death watched over his prize,
Sailing forever, no end sunset to sunrise.
Time no longer existed, peace no longer mattered,
Contagion spread, anger raged, and blood spattered.
Aye he had fought, conquered, and laid to rot,
Laid bare their hearts as the fever raged hot.
Death watched as the evil winds began to blow,
Striking one then another laying them low.
His crew were twelve now though in silence they lay,
Ah in the distance sails. They must not get away.
Many ships he had captured, many a prize he lay claim,
Drunkards by choice, greed, oh he loved this game.
Skeletal fingers beckoned his prey, come, see my treasure,
Gazing into his sightless eyes, their screams gave him pleasure.
© Cynthia Clark