Confinement, a bode of misery with blue majesty abound.
The petty officer, Mr. Transcontinental promised treasures never found.
Recognized with nothing but obscurity for the sea is sole judge and jury.
Crashing thunderstorms are the only sound where lonesomeness becomes friend and death is crowned.
Thoughts of liberation are constant wonder. from mast to keel and gunwale, this swoon of a boatswain’s blunder.
-- by Todd Lambert