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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Horror/Scary · #1605061
The spirits of bygone pirates still seek revenge on the high seas.


Spirits of pirates of yore, these waters still roam,
Scimitars ready to spit the unwary knaves.
There, perched astride, on swell with hissing cap of foam,
A renewed revenge, some heinous blood price he craves.

The waters crash and roar, the vessel plays jump rope
with the swells, the horizon judders and recedes.
Under a weary violet shadowed sky, my hope
Pendulum swings; fear grows, upon itself it feeds.

Clouds swing low, menacing brows of blackened silver,
Grumbling thunder threatens assault with lances bright,
Piteous sounds, others crying out for succour -
Innards plummet, terror rides the high seas tonight.

Craven, I surrender to the scallywag's trick –
I heave, I retch, once more - miserably sea-sick!



12 syllables per line, abab cdcd efef gg rhyming pattern, not quite a sonnet!
(I am assuming 'violet' is two syllables for the purpose of this write. That's called poetic licence!*Laugh*)
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