December 20, 2014

January across Barbados
Has never been very kind,
Harsh Atlantic winds can
Scatter ships just like
Petals on a pond,
And the coming of the
Rainy months seemed
To push people from
Bad to worse.

This island nation is
Peopled by grief, and an
Innate desire for both
Money and death, and
Both are handed out
On a daily basis.
But out in the crystal
Waters, there were far
Worse things to fear.

One such dreaded ship
Preyed the trade routes
With total impunity:
The Coronado.
Her infamous signal,
Three angled chevrons,
Pale blue and ochre
And all that was known
Was that her captain is
A dark and sinister figure
Who never dealt with
Anyone face to face.
A shady tyrant, who
Crowned himself the
Ruler of the seas.

A thousand tales
Told in hushed voices
Throughout every inn
And tavern described,
Often with grim detail,
The plunder of the
Coronado crew.
It was said that they
Always left the enemy
Captain alive, adrift in
One of his own rowboats,
With naught but a pistol
And a single shot for it.

What most did not know,
However, was that the
Captain of the Coronado
Was no king over Barbados,
But a queen, both fair
And unerringly cruel.
Each sunken colony ship
Was just another jewel
Set in her pirate crown.

Her path not chosen by her,
She tries to purge the seas
Of her guilt by burning all
And surrendering nothing.



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