Beneath a Starless Sky

Beneath a starless sky they sail.

The black waves sing a song.

They serenade the ebon sky,

their voices loud and strong.

The ship of seasoned sailors

chose to brave them all the same.

Beneath a starless sky they sailed

for fickle fortune’s fame.

The waning crescent moon no help

to navigate the sea.

It watched the skimming bow cut kelp

and rose indifferently.

The sailors didn’t count the cost,

and so they paid the price.

The black waves and the crescent moon

had caught them in a vise.

The ship went down,

the sailors drowned.

The town folk whisper why.

The crescent moon,

celestial scythe,

will cull your soul

to die.

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