Pirate Fantasies

Be twiX ex bedazzled.
Twas a starry night, that night.
He leads me by fiery eyes that hinders that thunder.
There is no more yearning, and no less than before...
just the same steady call like our lighthouse.
Because there he was in that ship, and I waited atop the widows peak wailing.
Never had he felt so close than in that written poem.
Yes it was that particular starry night our eyes danced and the shutters of the house creaked with our seeming less notion, that we both begged for more, without saying one word.
I wrote. I wrote.
And the caress of the bow of the boat as it lulled, in lullabye of wanting no questions,
Just that heartbeat rythm faster, and faster, row that boat.
The Siren she's called a red haired flame, and she is my twin with no name.
She rows back and forth in harmony with the waves...
She sings and sings, but pirate delays.
For two we were ocean and to destiny we slave.
And her wails atop the wailing widows peak,
Slide down into the boat.
She is rocking alone...the lullabye is caught in her throat.
It's sad to sing for so long she drinks...the salty water.
Tears.
Tears.
Tears.

For he is not gone. He is not dead to see.
He is alive and well, and written for this ecstasy.
He is one drop in the vein, and a rouche and roulette.
Everywhere I turn, no where.
Amazing this quest to find true north, for I wrote it so...
Moonlight millennial starry nights ago.
Potion made of loves' regret not forgotten.
Sifting sand barrel of rum.
Shifting weight left to right...
Run.
Run.
Run.

                                                              Moonlights Midnight

At Moonlight's Midnight
At Love She Fails.
Steigen Fur De Mond.
New House of Dye
Takes not the apple.
Aye for eye...

Tis midnight moonlight,
He does not fail.
She fell beyond,
the horizons keep coming...
Ships and the Knight,
never fair she well.

Lost to see, too blind
the stare, case to case.
A treasure chest full 
of fate.
Poetry...lines of it, white.
Black on forever.
Neverland awaits...
Cookoo bird, but holding
by a stanza, word for word.

In a world gone gray...
line for line, white souloette,
shes been doing time.
Steigen Fur de Mond.
Monday again, pales though
against the write on right.

Mond licht empfindlich nine.
Far out to see...
Simple yes, easy nine...
No more.  Mond
Pales in comparison to what is
now known.

A thousand times better,
AT LOVE SHE SAILS.
Steigen fur de mond, 
Captain.

Nehus Or New House was my maiden name...guess what I am German.  Steigen Fur de Mond is "rise for the moon"...and I am thinking that saying in my poem is passionate and requesting, but not in a demanding way which would be to also say "bitta" which means do it right now or else...
Rising my character's last name is of the light, ebbing out the darkness. The moon's light comes in the Evening, and stays til the last hour...but as the hmmmmmm of time day in night out, the tick, the tock. The clock, black and white...neither predominant, but equals and without one there is no other.  Yin Yang, balance.  And so when I sleep, he is awake, and when I wake he is asleep...and in two worlds separate we keep.  Rise for the Moon, Adam Raposa...
Empfindlich means thin skinned, nine means not.

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