The Necessity

She built a sailing ship from quarried limestone. Vacancy for about a thousand restless crows. Year after year "the necessity" steadily progressed. Twenty-four and SEVEN without yearn for prayer or rest. She was elegant and beautiful like white virgin gold. but years of pauper toil always demand a royal toll. Thinning soul and hunched bones she hungrily attacked. Through drought, whirlwinds and DEVELISH thunderclaps. She placed half a carrot atop the limestone mast. by far the brightest jewel of her black powder past. Dragging the beating vessel 'neath seagull serenade. A pinch of salted MEMORIES left melting in the rain. She slowly crawled aboard... a parrot's diary in hand. Waiting for black waters to swallow up the burning path. The necessity was launched with a bleeding of champagne. A christening of a new constellation called the death of PAIN.