"Hard! To starboard!", strong and cold the captain screams,
"The waves! Are rapture! 10 foot tall; They crash against our,
Hull! Is shattered! One more hit and we will fall,
Beneath! The umbra!
So raise the sails; We'll all rest when we're dead."
"Dear God! Dear Neptune! Dear anyone who hears this plea;
Forgive us! We're empty! Soulless but defiantly alive.
Please keep us! As anything that you can use,
Beyond! The fodder! That we would be to soothe this fallow land."
(And then the storm front hit)
A crimson explosion as his face hits the floor of the galley,
He drags himself o'er to a porthole,
And catching a fleeting glance of death on the port side,
He mistakes the storm for something closer to god.
"The Leviathan rises.
The Leviathan rises!"
"Please! Dear Captain. Listen to my message from the nest!
The storm front! Has changed it's course to directly at us."
"Well take us in!
For we will not be lowered;
If we go down, we'll prove this monster is but fiction;
A ghost."
Contrary. To Belief. Relief did ask me to take their lives myself
But I rejected. Yes I rejected. I refused. I was disgusted.
For We are Neptune. We are Leviathan. And We will not be lowered.
But as with all other doomed human endeavours,
The real danger lies in vile self preservation;
Where captains of men, captain their ships into others,
And the Armada falls to Herself.
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