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9/4/2011 11:16:07 PM

Keith Baker
Posts: 18

Tempt me not thou blue woman
there is no flirtation in my weathered wake.
Thy dark chambers seem so inviting
but I have a call to make.
There're souls aboard and down below
which ye claim as your own.
However, my dear lady,
ye may not have me for thy store.

I see that thou hath conspired,
with the sky, who ye acquired,
I fear not the terrible twosome
for I will not be mired.
Nay, I will not be taken,
I will not be stayed.
For this my finest hour;
I have a call to make.

Toss and turn me wholly,
I soldier on through the black flight.
And the thunderous lightning strikes
only serve to light my way this night.
Thy gaping mouth is dripping,
white teeth sharpened by the air,
though thy tongue is licking,
thou shalt not taste my fair.

The angrier ye yet get
the stronger my resolve.
The harder will I beat my planks
to starve thy selfish craw.
And verily I go forth,
further into thy state.
Our time is not to be met here,
I have a call to make.

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