. •atop the mast billows my wind-tossed rag•grinning skull embla- zoned proud•the starkness of black upon my flag •piercing the encroaching sea mist and shroud•her- ald the sight of the jolly roger • instilling trepidation in all who sail through my turf • fuelled by the thirst to pillage and plunder•others before, have sunk into graves beneath the surf•my salt encrusted timber creaks a frightening low growl• my hull would pum- mel thro- ugh the opposing waves• my sails bloat full trapping winds that howl•my deck bears the screams of a thousan- d slaves•know me, seafarers... i am no legend but truth•avast! seafarers, i am the tale that looms•believe me, seafarers for i am ca- pable of all things
••• ••• uncouth •fear me, seafarers for i am your doom•you could sail the seas with the world's most skillful of crew• you cannot deny the inevitable heavy hand of fate•be- cause once my vessel comes within view •you would know for certain that it's already ••••••• ••••••• ••••• ••••• *too late•
Concrete Poem 17 of 30
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