Sunday, January 8, 2012

Old Flames XII: Godspeed You To Sea, Young Mariner

Godspeed you to sea, young mariner. Do not take up piracy, fatal youth. This is a beach to bury the dead. This is not where you will build and burn your summer home.

Oh, the burning, you ask?

You will find yourself alone and heartbroken, drunk on sweet rum, trampled by the hopeless and pitied by the gutless, looking for a world to tear down. And then you will find your home on the cliff and wish it to fall. But what of the rocks below?

Feed them.

They are hungry for your body, but you still have more reward to see upon your head. Let them finish the house you built with dry hands and eager manner. Let you announce your home's demise and let the rocks below grind their teeth. This is you on a dark beach, awash in flames, cackling insanity under the moon that crawls across the water like a beggar in love.

This is mutiny upon ourselves! This is young boys and young girls making blood pacts in the trees! This is forlorn devotion to the last cause that ever mattered: our future!

Wreck this day and night will be filled with the saddest lover to ever want to rob you. Shall you take up above the tavern? Good, then watch the waves. We are waiting for enemies.

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