" A Pirate's Fate"

the sun sets.. casting long shadows against the deck from webbing and rigging above    
 moonraker fills and puffs.. clapping sky    
nervous and without order, sea-birds fly and shriek in disarray    
waves before shine polished burls of orange glass    
 shimmering to hypnotize our departed twilighted day    
caught in time, we're not blind to the coming wrath    
porpoise no longer race beside, vanishing from her starboard.. suddenly from fast to gone    
     
 sail starts to slap the jackstay against the yard.. the bow's cadence becomes quicker    
she cuts the waves harder, deeper.. throwing sea foam and spray higher    
 as if she knows impending danger chases her fate, dire dare    
to try an' outrun her, into the wind we turn    
a strong dark squall bears down from behind, moving in fast to over-come    
 we've been here before, we're game to make a run    
the red sun seems to glower its glee at leaving us with spite    
disappearing beyond the horizon hurriedly in safety    
 white-caps start to roll larger than our length, if strife    
be our way, beware the reckoning.. it comes, all hold mightily!    
she's endured many a storm before in her history's suspense    
 the feel of this one seems wrong; different than the others.. survived with the Queen Ann's Revenge    
     
the crew all wear stoic faces; it's their hurried activity that betrays their vex and dread    
 a sixth sense that comes with sailing all the seas, years away    
from their port's homes, the crew's comradery alone    
all who sail are cursed with superstitious beliefs    
 caution, strange myths, ominous signs with    
impending doom, dire consequences    
peril part of the accepted way, prayer and song to appease the gods.. nay    
 looting, plundering all who come into view, greed's fallacy repays retribution    
     
rain begins to accompany the whipping wind, pelting and stinging    
 with her wind catching too full, gusts blustering to shred    
Blackbeard bellows to trim and fold sail; surrendering to the storm's coming path    
 sea waves swell over a quarter past the height of the mainmast    
building, reaching..      
spilling the storm's deluge upon and swamping her    
     
 the crew's lashed to the bulwark, or anything that won't wash overboard      
the mizzenmast cracks, belays snap as the afterguard cry out from aft    
 the helm spins out of control, the patroon fraps to the dodger hold    
the sheer of her warping, the shrouds loose on the main threatening to go      
 the orlop flooded and scuttles spew, the crew walks the manrope bold    
clambering towards the yawl; they're swept over and vanish in the wave's wall    
 a funnel forms from the heavens, less than half a league away.. the titanic spout pulling    
like Poseidon's wrath, she's wrenched into a violent whirlpool fray, tumult ensues through    
 spinning chaos, all but left is fate.. past mistakes    
flash among lightening strikes..    
in an instant.. regret finished with prayer, turmoil, fighting to survive.. now, living this nightmare    
 the squall swallows her, down she swirls into the deep, into the sea's black eye.. engulfing all and its souls