Captain Blackbeard
by Brandon Pickrell
The vessel set sail in the early morn,
As red sky descended to meet the water,
Prophesy foretold that the crew should be warned,
But the crew couldn’t wait to claim their charter.
X marked the spot of treasure, fame and glory,
300 paltry pirates upon the Queen Anne’s Revenge,
One day history will sing their story,
Even at the cost of debauchery and sin.
The flag fluttered bravely, bemarked with a white skull,
As the ship gained speed into the misty distance,
Many didnt know that the skulls would be their own,
The rest followed orders Captain Blackbeard had insisted.
“Yo-ho, Yo-Ho,” and a bottle of rum,
They danced upon the planks in joyous revelry,
Until they saw the mast and enormous guns,
Of a fleet from the royal British navy.
“Ahoy,” cried the captain with an ere about his person,
“Adjust the cannons to fire on the port side,”
Who fired first to this day is still uncertain,
Though the shots and shells rained in tune with the tide.
The sky filled with clouds and volleyed its thunder,
The ship shook with water sloshing about the deck,
But just as the crew thought for sure they would go under,
Blackbeard took the wheel and kept them in check.
“Ahoy” cried again as he peered into the distance,
The British fleet was bombared by nature’s deadly dance,
They were sunk in the water despite their resistance,
Yet Blackbeard saved by fate and providence.
The rest of their days they searched for their charter,
Treasure fame and glory remained their call,
Content to pillage, borrow and barter,
It was better than never leaving the shores at all.
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