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The billowing cloak and the Sands of Death.

There never was a silenter crew
There never was or will be
All they did was make trouble and they slew
Until that day upon that fateful sea.

Where all but one under that sun
When all but one came undone
When all but one had their last fun
There was more then one but now just one.

One of them held a secret deep
One of them was different
One of them could never sleep
Once the sun slept after the hour spent.

Nor could that one have ruled before
Never noticed, never seen
He was the one who came from lore
If not for them could never have been.

On that day, on that rolling sea
He came from Lore no more
Out of the tales he came to be
Bled from the wounds so sore

Many a silent crew has been
Many such crews will be
But none have been or will even be seen
As those undone by that spiteful sea

Thunder cracked and ship planks groaned
The lightning flashed up high
The light it shed was merrily loaned
But soon it was gone on high

Rain lashed on the salty decks like the cat-a-nine
Is meant to lash the wrongdoers back
Like that punishment, to give a sign
For the wind to strike up the howling cry like the wolves lone pack

For day and days it danced around
The storm whirled us in a dangerous jig
Where the silence was there now was sound
Where food a-plenty not a fig.

The ship she cried from the brutal torture
Her decks begin to shake
The lightning struck her tall mast down, her engine purred no more
She could of this torment no more take

Silence, silence save the cries, of the lost crew
All but one of them weeping
Now they wish they’d seen him and knew
But for now, on-wards never sleeping.

Frayed the ropes pearly the hands
The cold full moon reflects
Now regretting forgotten lands
The crewmen swab the decks.

Over and over still over again
Tugging on the ropes, wash the planks
Never feeling the rain, immune to pain
No one, but one, has class or ranks

This one is crueller and stands alone
No one knew him, now all know
He rules the darkness from his throne
To death from him all humans go.

He whips his slaves ‘till all flesh goes
And then he snakes it on white bone
To make the crewmen work in rows
To reap all and more of what they’ve sown.

No more silence no more still
Just the sea song of the wind
Whistling though the rib-cage shrill
Of those pure ones plus the sinned.

He has no Mercy, he knows no pity
Standing on the captains deck alone
He sweeps alike though sea and city
Dragging men pleading from their home.

Cold black eyes that never sleep
Pearly white fingers bleached and drumming
Always watching for something to reap
Cracking his whip, all senses numbing.

His sweeping cloak black as night
Always restlessly moving waiting
For the one who wears it to catch sight
Of more mortals for the taking.

Then how long behind it billows!
As he sweeps it around his bones
Raising the slumbering heads from pillows
Breaks the routine of the drones.

Hiding the sun as it’s swept around
A whirling twirling beautiful dance
Only one whisper that’s barely a sound
“Time to go, you’ve had your chance”

His silent gaze holds your eye
His bleached white finger cocks a beckon
Tells you for sure what words can not “The time is nigh!”
The horsemen and fire are for later, for now to him you reckon.

Standing leaning on his scythe upon the hills of green
Casing judgement over all, nothing escapes his eyes
Good and bad all acts are seen
Then he cocks his finger, his cloak it sighs.

What happens when the sand runs out?
The sand of your deeds flowing until
You’ve paid all back with no doubt,
Small ones for the good tall for the bad all measured on the hill.

What then cruel Reaper do you do?
Ah, you release your crewmen?
An hourglass to each given from you
Hung ‘round the neck but the bad work again.

They’ll serve you ‘till the horsemen come,
The good they rest in peaceful slumber
The bad are made forever numb
Forever a groaning growing number.

Your crewmen work to that dreadful tune
Of the wind crying through ribs so hollow
Under the bleaching sun and moon
No other command have they but “Follow”

Where ever your restless cloak does billow
Where ever you cast your eye in judgement
Always forever you stand at that tiller oh
Billowing cloak, oh judging eye relent!

‘Tis useless to be sure for all
More pity came from faceless stone
Everything from the stone home to gallows tall
Hear the same pitiless tone

“Times up, your sand is falling now”
His fixed grin turns to you
“Don’t run or beg or start a row
Don’t act surprised, from birth you knew.”

“Make it easy and just don’t fight
Then again it’s more sport to chase”
His grin splits wide, his laughter’s flight
Joins the booming thunders race.