PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Tis’ light I only see, and breeze I only feel. Calm is the way of this ocean, “El Pacifico” I hear it called. The captain isn’t pleased with the lack of breeze, he fear for our food supply run low. And as I look, nothing but blue, the matching sky above to the water below. I cannot wait till this voyage be over, take my pay and leave this dreaded place. The food filled with bug and water turned green. I look for a port, but it manage to thwart, my efforts in vain, confounded in me this deep pain. I fear it will kill, before the voyage be over, I mustn’t die, moreover I mustn’t cry. I fight the pain with last once of breath, and whens’t I sleep, I fearest thy death. My fellow crewmates, the numbers run low, every morn is a renewed sense of fate. Most of us dream of finding some land, to take on supplies, without those pesky flies. The infest what food we have left, the bulk of which remain with no heft. The men grow weary, their minds gone dreary, like zombies of an undead crew. There tasks the same, as the day before, soon they be covered in gore. The stain of blood gives evidence of a hard days work. The men not given what they should in return for their service. When the captain be seen, he look pale and nervous. He can sense the men approaching their limit break, he fearest it’s the ship that they will take. His worst fear, that they shall turn ‘round, he feels they are close to being found. He tells the men of his conception, that land we shall find at the next intersection. He looks with hope through his mini-telescope, in hopes to find, to what others have been so blind. New land abroad, near and far, to claim it all, to be ours. To share in its wealth and prosperity too, this keeps the men true. They hold still their tongues, likest when they were young. He says he navigates by the stars, it be true to us thus far. And as the sky turn to night, I pray to God with all my might. I hope he hears me and helps me out, for if he didn’t I don’t think I could hold another pout. Just as I lay down on my bed, I was awoken, and my friend said. “Come quick kind sir, land has been spotted, tis’ a slight blur.” So henceforth I must go, as was my duty. With scope in hand I looked abound, there it was, such a slight fuzz. I ran for the captain who had already been around, he was very pleased by what we had found. He yelled to the stern, very forcefully he yearned, and the pilot then learned of the fuzz that there was, and set sail in that direction with out flaws. All the mates were very happy indeed, one could only hear the sound of a stampede. When it was over, all said and done, I went back to bed to rest my weary head. For in the morn I knew, we would arrive later to view, what we have searched for so long and so hard, all our efforts, of this we could be proud. I find myself drifting off to sleep, no longer would any weep. Off I went, images of land in my head, as I lay upon my bed, gazing, staring, at the sky, this new adventure would not be dry. Now I leave you with this to think, ponder upon the brink, of knowing what is to come, but only this is just some. The whole of witch, will be reviled, in the end it shall be yield. With this power you now have to wield, I leave you be. In the end we will all see, what is to come of you and me.