The midnight sail

Crack, a little sound from the mast

Responding to the touch of the monsoon

On her old wooden structure

A tender embrace he gives

Stretching wide the black canvas

Whispering tales of the brave

The once beautiful and strong

But now lay wrecked at sea bottom

Harboring souls of the dead

Captain Black and his crew

An old map of the sea

To the lost moving island

Resting the rulers of the sea

The great kings of pirates


Whoosh, gentle waves drifting

Rocking us rhythmically

A musical sensation it feels

Like a fine tune of a classical

Conducted live in the open sea

Trumpets, trombones and tubas

Violins, violas and harps

A symphonic sound for the travelling souls

And as the sea guardians work

Attending to Captain White in his cabin

I stand on the deck

Relishing the cold breeze

Watching the moon shift

On a midnight sail


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