The Legend of the Albatross
|Not a wanderer stuck on the crest of lonely waves.
Nor running ragged on the sands of time.
Traipsing wearily through the wracks of sodden salty weed.
As cold water laps over their feet abandoned on craggy rocks.
Not always at sea.
From rock to rock.
Ungodly whistling, clicking and howling.
Wailing and bemoaning.
Poseidon knows that they’re around.
They strut around the rocks, all knowing.
Their lives they live as one of two.
Choose their one for life.
Should you see one in your salty path.
Foreboding spirit, a warning of turbulence to come.
A past sailor boy seen in totem of bird.
Not so swell, an evil omen.
Moons long past, the only witnesses to a killing crime.
Saw Albatross have his feet cruelly hewed.
Tobacco pouch for jack tar and his pals.
Ancient mariners in a doctrine of distortion.
Sky sailors slept on the wing over night.
Their perceptions were not right.
The birds perished in the dead of night.
As they did not ever rest in flight.
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