If dare ye to question,
Then an answer I’ll yield.
Our destination be westward,
To a place long concealed.
‘Neath the frigid isle of Midday,
Where the sun too long shines.
Lies a cove left unseen,
By all her shorelines.
But were an educated diver
To descend through the deep.
Then the booty does lie,
In that flooded old keep.
Now to the engines you knave,
You salty, swollen mass.
If somepony gets that treasure first…
I’ll Keelhaul your [omitted]!
askfuselight liked this
krastosthegluemaker-blog said: Excellent poem, Lyra!
kat-and-katty-answers liked this
asklyra posted this
