Fly upon the wings
of a ship so strong and true,
in to the sunset.
I scan the ships deck,
The engineers fixing gears
Of the battered hull.
The gunners polish
Brassy battered sparking guns
And organise rounds.
Far in the distance,
Another ship charges forth
A huge galleon.
A battle ensues,
The burning sky with fury,
as rounds burst the hull.
Phoenix claw to turn,
Barrels of moonshine to burn
And so much to learn.
When battle is done
The burning embers remain
and silence remains.
Exhausted we fly
To a port or hiding place
To rest and reflect.
