we were making a return trip from a routine voyage to the neighbouring port of kingston where we traded in our cargo for much coin and wine which we then intended to re sell back at port castries. we knew we were in for a lenghty voyage because we were ailing against the winds which is very unfavourable to a seafarer. the captain stood at the helm compas in hand staring out into thenight sky reading the stars to get his bearings correctly. it was then it begun out of nowhere the wind died down and the sky became overun with dark clouds . Not one star could have be seen in the sky and not one tiny rock could be felt on the boat ... the sea had become motionless as if waiting for something to stir from its depths. at once the captain yelled '' take down the sails u lazy liver licking swine.. tie down the cargo secure lifelines its gonna be a bumpy ride boys hope you lot of sissys dont mind a lil rain!!!" The sky flashed a bright white and the droplets of the torrential downpour pierced through the heavens like the god zues himself was waging war upon the earth with thousands of needles, thunder boomed in the night sky shaking the very supports and beams of the scrawny vessel known as the 'SeaWench'. The crew scrambled about tieing ropes to the mast and securing lifelines ans waves towered about 20 feet in the air before crashing down on the vessel time and time again. i could hear blood curling screams as crew members were flung over board with thier lifelines being the only thing stopping them from meeting thier sure end in the churning water below.. the sea chewed up and spat out the boat time and time again . many sailors sought to pray but the captain wasnt about to have any one skylarking . he barked out orders to anyone and everyone on the ship while keeping the course at a true starboard direction. the water turned a frothy white for an instant then we saw it , a monster only that word coould have described the gigantic wave we saw heading for the ship at that moment. It mut have been over 100 feet tall and looked like it could break at anymoment taking the ship and everyone aboard with it . the stern of the ship looked like it couldnt sustain any more damage and the hull was in deplorable condition . a hit from a wave like that would most likely be devastating. the captain stood at the helm staring the wave down with a hard grizzled look on his face as if he was daring the wave to come faster. then he did what was either the bravest thing ive ever seen or the dummest, he steered the ship right towards the on comming wave . the ship climbed the wave slowly but sure and every waking moment someone in the crew would ask what if it broke before we climbed over it. the ship kept climbing and 3 more crew members were flung overboard due to the sharp incline . then the captain yelled "drop sails " the ials were dropped and almost intantly a strong gust of wind picked the boat right up out the water and carried it over the huge wave just as it came crashing down.

been a twisted road

long dark fruitful? 

the question lies not in the path behind

but in what awaits ahead 

seated atop mountains of ideals

and rivers of thoughts 

not one seems to appeal

but one seeks that which interests

makes the deaf comment about bars in a symphony

or the blind critic aesthetics in a painting 

and seemingly like a choir of mutes

i aspire to write beatiful pieces

but these long strokes leave the trail tainted 

oozing black blood an epithany of angels tears in its wake 

twisting the road even more leading towards the unknown 

leading nowhere but finding a place somewhere

and that place being of such worthlessness

like a beach where the breeze has yet to grace 

or a garden that has not yet felt the kiss of the rays of the sun

hoping to bloom a rose of thought out of the tip of this black river of blood

but realising indeed that hope is never as it seems 

always rising and falling hiding and seeking in turn

for that ray , that epitome of guidance 

that cure for what seems like a disease of immorality

which seems to befall on the one seated on mountains of ideas 

and rivers of thoughts

but lacking the one means to initiate the sequence

the sequence of melody now known as poetry

lacking the necessities of Pen and Paper