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Author: Guede Mazaka
Rating: G
Pairing: Gen.
Feedback: Sure. Good lines, bad ones, etc.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: For the ones without a voice. Free-style poem, in honor of PotC's one-year anniversary.
***
Wood-Age, Wind-Age
We come out of the night, we sea-wolves
We burn your crosses, we take your treasures
And where is your faith now? Lying
Under shields and spears, piled before the feast
The ring-givers are like rain-gods tonight.
One falls, two rise
And we carry them forth, plant them like new forests.
Red skin, black skin
White and yellow
It's all filled with red blood,
Sacrament to our Lord-
Trade and war
Glory and gold
We touch upon your shores, filled
With death and sickness
The squeaking of rats pervade our bellies
And we heel before the wind
We break asunder and sink
God's judgment, kamikaze savior
But our children will return, and
Revenge us.
We are proud and stern
We are cruel rulers
We are man-eaters
But do not burn us from your memories
Do not tear us from the books
Do not light the fires, undo the ropes
For without us, you would have no wings.
Alleluia, men.
Alleluia.
***