A Patch of Land
Ten years at sea, one day on land. Ah what he wouldn't give for just a patch of land he
could call his own.
And of course she would bet there waiting for him with open arms.
She'd have on the twin locket that played that beautiful song.
He looked down at his, as he the music weaved its way from the locket to his waiting ears.
As it wound down he hit the organ with his fish like fist and sputtered with anger.
That was not to happen though, was it? She would not be there and so he would be
forever doomed a sea monster.
So be it, if this was his curse than damn, them, damn them all. What did he care if any
one lived or died, for all he cared they could all face the mast for a thousand years let
alone one hundred.
