The Wrong Sailor Taken
O’ Hope–O’ frail thing made from feathers and sea wind– What do you see when you gaze downward? Our prize has been won with hard-earned blood and steel
Have you ever felt sorrow? The kind that takes its time sitting on your chest, not clawing, not sharp, just there. It reaches out sometimes and grabs at the things you hold dear, and to you, it’s just heavy and overbearing but ultimately fine, but to others it’s dangerous. And they tell you so and you listen for a little bit but the sorrow reaches out again and now it has claws, now it’s sharp and it hurts people and it takes pieces of people. And it holds those pieces, has a ring of people’s flesh around its neck, and it gets heavier and heavier because of it.