The Drunk Sailor

Sky boiling sapphire from the sea
Losing contact with reality
Swaying to the sidewaves shifting
Like an uneasy sleep he went turning.

Although awake the sailor snors
Drowning the clouds of subversive liquor;
Drought in his throat he will succumb
Famine and death in his shipwreched dischord.

Submerged in bottles of spilling fire
The dilema of wanting overpower;
Duality of form is all he sees
No one should dare stop him, impelled the beast.

Standing up he felt his numb limb
A duel he cast upon the wind
Boistering rough violent verbs
As he suffocates with his own words.

"I am the master of all seas!"
Unknowing the wrath of the silent breeze,
He went on shouting, cursing her -
To then die that day on mid-December.

Then she awoke from her long time sleep
To cast the demon off her feet;
She thumped on the waves to carry his ship
His sails were torn by her strong whip.

She cried to his sins, he should pay -
He choked as his perception fades away;
Then he shred - no time to resist
As his body sail away piece by piece.

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note: i celebrate through traditional writing the May 17th ritual...
but now, not with the drunk sailor, but with Captain Easychord*.*