Thunder, it bellows ominously across the streets;
Where the rats come out to play.
A flash of light, that outbalances the moons radiance; the sizzling crack of white in the sky that illuminates the ocean of wooden shacks below.
Eerie cries from the alleyway outside the brothel, with tears of the tortured in the rain... and yet still, no ship sails after the stolen gold.
Mothers and their kin on the abandoned island, and the weak and poor scattered upon its shore.
They call for freedom six feet deep, and another screw falls loose.
The sharks are fearless of the heavens above; I stalk from the tower of solitary confinement, and as the hourglass top slowly hollows, I will finally hear the angels lullaby.
Goodbye my love for I can’t brave this sea of sin, and no longer can I take this torment.
I beg for serenity; I will always love you Beatrice.
With a shattered glass heart and a tortured soul, I must depart with the pieces in your hand.
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The ending poem of a mini story line i wrote about a falsely accused prisoner. The unnamed prisoners goodbye to his wife, Beatrice and her child, as he dies peacefully in his confinement against the "storm" of every night.