(Pssst…In case you missed the first part, you can start from HERE.)
By Robert L. Jones, III ( check it out at Pneumythology)
VIII. Their Just Desserts
The captain was a wicked man who took his crew to task.
He kept the cheer he’d shown ashore contained within his flask,
Capriciously applied the lash to undeserving backs,
And spurred his vessel on along its chosen ocean tracks.
They worked the shipping lanes to find their merchandise at sea.
The Orca was a brigand ship intent on piracy.
All profits were contested first then split among the ranks,
But none would be for proper trade or kept in proper banks.
The holds were bare upon this trip. No raid had been as yet.
Too late did Galen know his plight once caught up in their net.
Repenting of impatience, he maintained a solemn fast
And put up the appearance of a spotter in the mast.
Neglecting to cry out, he spied a distant ship or two
And let them pass. It was his luck no other shipmate knew.
One day he gave a signal. There was no approaching storm,
But dark beneath the surface moved an undulating form
Of massive size. In consequence, they sounded more alarms.
The hardest pirates feared their fates within the Kraken’s arms.
With sails drawn slack and cannon down, the boat began to drift.
Keen eyes were peeled upon the waves to see what shape might lift.
The watchmen at the bow first saw the dim, primeval sign.
Two giant, round, unblinking eyes stared upward through the brine.
Just then, cries sounded from the stern in warning of a trap,
Long tentacles in tight embrace that made the timbers snap.
In spreading, inky camouflage, the surface waves were oiled.
With serpentine appendages, the darkened waters boiled.
So as a sword but one third drawn and two thirds in the sheath,
The Kraken writhed above the waves with twice more underneath.
The shattered ship was sinking low. The Kraken held it fast
And killed the crew in minutes, save for Galen in the mast,
And as the hull was pulled below, the mast alone still stood,
A crucifix above the sea, scant shelter for the good.
The Kraken then released its grip once filled with evil men.
Seen from above, it seemed to grow, thus fed on mortal sin,
While Galen, from his tilting perch gaped at the floating mass,
For in a coil of tentacle, he saw his true love pass,
A deathly pale upon her face, once radiant by day.
Her comely corpse through many years had suffered no decay.
The hair that once the wind had swept by water now was combed.
Her captor pulled her out of sight as to the deep it homed.