[POEM] The sea calling

This poem was composed a while ago as my submission to the Passage Prize contest. Moldbug seems to have find it “displaying promise” apparently, but unfortunately didn’t like it enough to avoid me a rejection. Hence I’m posting it here hoping that some among you may find my pen at least as promising as he did.

Who upon hearing waves clashing
Loud on stone pillars tall dashing,
When his eyes gaze the blue line
Where the sea, heroes’ dark wine,
Meets the sky brightly flashing;

Who, I say, feels but blood boiling
As the waves fall and rise toiling,
Whose his heart plays but proud beats
Like the war-drums from soft seats
Call to arms forth a spoiling.

Every beat leaves the heart mourning,
Fill the wise soul with faint warning
That of days past the cold gales
Soon shall bring funereal wails
And with ire hail the morning.

What shall we do, o man gazing
Lights of red fires your home razing
As the cold winds your bones pierce,
Grim their cries, snow their bite fierce,
Bringing waste white and dazing?

Will we hide, crouch as war’s thriving,
Underground trembling kin driving
Or instead stand against dark
Holding life’s joyous spark,
To our fate grant surviving?

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