The Furrowed Sea’s of Liberty

“This moon be ripe for another fool’s fight don’t you agree”

Said the ancient child to the remains of a me

From behind a strangely shaped pipe if such I could see

asked she

“what was that Tune pale moon whistled thee?”

It was a sad One that much I do recall too the rise of our fall

Of a then of me never free

 When I turned my back and walked away into the century’s like day’s

Then I was Range in the Name

Long before the Shadow’s came

“The moon be ripe”

Said the glowing pipe

Then in a corner of the deck the voice fell to sleep mumbling strange word’s pitifully

“Broken Cree”

Said Billy

of the land of slave’s freed

This Ancient child spoke very strangely indeed

The Child spoke many things, to haunt my troubled dreams

We left their Fairy Daughters there of know Care off to chase a demon of Smoke behind Cloak

“Of your Strength you have crippled, useless as that dry nipple”

Said the child of no friends smile

Ah yes

Well placed Damsel’s of distress

The Fairy were willing to fight for their new Light

But vengeance bit deep

From the depths of the demon’s fathomless deceipt

“chase me never free”