Inclined To Glory

March 22, 2017 — poem, poetry, ship of fools

sky

Tomorrow I might decide to fight but now I am inclined
To let the ship of fools sail out of the harbor without a word
They have enough rope and madness has made them blind
There is no stopping the clueless, no redemption for the herd
There is a stampede rumbling and roaring over the cliff so steep
The fog hides their destiny, Davey Jones awaits them in the deep
Neptune will have his way with them, drowning, gasping death
Takes them from the perils of living, choking out their last breath