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The Ship of Death
- The Ship of Death -
I walked amidst the purple flocks, the tiny flowers smiling back,
I looked upon the old farmlands, and saw many a tiny shack…
How long has it been since someone worked those old lands?
How long has it been since the soil felt gentle, loving hands?
It is not a curse upon those grounds, but neglect that poisons,
And so I shall not venture there, thence thusly my pace hastens!
Unto the shores of the sea I’ll go, to watch the tide rolling in…
I must forget, the pain that brought me far from my fellow man.
And so I walk, but cannot talk, for who shall hear me there?
Far from where I’ve been before, I hear a voice say: beware.
It is not courage that propels me on, though never a coward I,
It is vain hope to which I cling, as I walk beneath the cold sky.
And as I walked, I heard a raven rasp its’ mournful call…
“Beware the arms of the Angel of Death, for she must take all!”
At the shores of the sea, I sat upon some rocks amidst the sand;
A tiny crab was smiling at me, as if by some joyful command…
I spied a vessel coming forth through mists as old as all of time,
I heard the sailors singing merrily, the words of some old rhyme.
And soon the ship did drop anchor before my high rocky perch,
As towards the shore came a small boat, made from hard birch.
Sent from the larger vessel it was, that small boat made for two,
And rowing it was a lady fair, with bright eyes of sparkling blue.
Her hair was crimson in the sun, her gown as black as the night!
She put her craft upon the sand, and had caught me in her sight.
Reaching forth a slender hand, the lady urged me to come forth,
And so I left my gray rocky seat, for all that my soul was worth.
And as I walked, I heard a raven rasp its’ mournful call…
“Beware the arms of the Angel of Death, for she must take all!”
I asked the lady from whence she came, so she answered back:
“I come from across shadowy mists, and gulfs of outer black!”
I took her hand and it was cold as ice, numbing to the touch…
So as she led me to her boat, I was feeling in need of a crutch.
“Do you know why I have come, and whither we are bound?”
The lady asked me, but I knew not and stared at the ground…
At which she saw my puzzlement, and bid me take great heed,
She told me she had come, to collect the harvest of life’s seed.
To take the souls whose time is nigh and sail on darker tides…
For she was Death: and in colder mists her vessel ever resides.
And so I took my hand away, and bid the cold lady farewell…
Another time I’ll board her craft, when the tides rise and swell.
And as I walked, I heard a raven rasp its’ mournful call…
“You have spurned the Angel of Death, but one day must fall!”
I walked amidst the purple flocks, the tiny flowers smiling back,
I looked upon the old farmlands, and saw many a tiny shack…
How long has it been since someone worked those old lands?
How long has it been since the soil felt gentle, loving hands?
It is not a curse upon those grounds, but neglect that poisons,
And so I shall not venture there, thence thusly my pace hastens!
Unto the shores of the sea I’ll go, to watch the tide rolling in…
I must forget, the pain that brought me far from my fellow man.
And so I walk, but cannot talk, for who shall hear me there?
Far from where I’ve been before, I hear a voice say: beware.
It is not courage that propels me on, though never a coward I,
It is vain hope to which I cling, as I walk beneath the cold sky.
And as I walked, I heard a raven rasp its’ mournful call…
“Beware the arms of the Angel of Death, for she must take all!”
At the shores of the sea, I sat upon some rocks amidst the sand;
A tiny crab was smiling at me, as if by some joyful command…
I spied a vessel coming forth through mists as old as all of time,
I heard the sailors singing merrily, the words of some old rhyme.
And soon the ship did drop anchor before my high rocky perch,
As towards the shore came a small boat, made from hard birch.
Sent from the larger vessel it was, that small boat made for two,
And rowing it was a lady fair, with bright eyes of sparkling blue.
Her hair was crimson in the sun, her gown as black as the night!
She put her craft upon the sand, and had caught me in her sight.
Reaching forth a slender hand, the lady urged me to come forth,
And so I left my gray rocky seat, for all that my soul was worth.
And as I walked, I heard a raven rasp its’ mournful call…
“Beware the arms of the Angel of Death, for she must take all!”
I asked the lady from whence she came, so she answered back:
“I come from across shadowy mists, and gulfs of outer black!”
I took her hand and it was cold as ice, numbing to the touch…
So as she led me to her boat, I was feeling in need of a crutch.
“Do you know why I have come, and whither we are bound?”
The lady asked me, but I knew not and stared at the ground…
At which she saw my puzzlement, and bid me take great heed,
She told me she had come, to collect the harvest of life’s seed.
To take the souls whose time is nigh and sail on darker tides…
For she was Death: and in colder mists her vessel ever resides.
And so I took my hand away, and bid the cold lady farewell…
Another time I’ll board her craft, when the tides rise and swell.
And as I walked, I heard a raven rasp its’ mournful call…
“You have spurned the Angel of Death, but one day must fall!”
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