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Rated: E · Poetry · Death · #1098354
No More Will I Call Unto Thee...
(Christ to Sailor)

OH SAILOR!
Christ calls unto thee,
Time to sail

I have for ye, thy face of a beautiful lady
On the bough....

(Sailor to Christ)

Shall I prep the sails and shine
the decks of thine golden ship for
Thou?

(Christ to Sailor)

Oh, YES!
AND NOW!

Ye fine one

Ye golden ones...
I give to ye the task to crack off barnacles
from the bottom of the prow...for
There are those who will not sail with us

Vows not spoken,
Still--sad to say a last good-bye
__________________________________________

FOR THOSE WHO WISH TO STAY...

I will let ye love as ye wish,
To prevail on these dark shores
And walk the eternal midnight moors of...

NIGHTMARES!

WHORES!

For I cannot make ye come,
Or awaken thee to the hour
Which is now,
What will be
Your eternal feel...
My muse of steel

Ohhh, ye dark ones
Ye black, beautiful shiny ones!
Who see the cut and crush
Of great Damocles' Steel
As it comes...

Leaves you off this grand ship's wheel...
Heed this last call
Ye one and all
____________________________________

Blue Persian azure hour drapes the moon

Calls to all the forlorn soon--
ALL CLEAR? THE SHIP IS NEAR

YE ARE ABOVE OR BELOW
IN THE FINITE HOUR...
(ETERNAL SOW)







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