Le Pêcheur, a Fantasy poem | SparkaTale

Sparkatale

Le Pêcheur

By: Charlotte Wensleydale

Created: April 7, 2019 | Updated: April 8, 2019

Genre : Fantasy

Language : English

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Le Pêcheur

 

Down by the shores

Of a windswept sea

Stands a ghostly figure staring.

 

In his hand sits a rod

With its line cast out,

As the starlight somehow blazes.

 

And the wind still blows

From its northern home,

And a ship strikes upon the rocks.

 

Cries its captain, fearful,

To the fisherman’s ghost,

In hope of some salvation:

 

"Save me, kind soul

Who commands the wind,

For your wrath has destroyed my vessel."

 

But the fisherman stares

And holds his place,

With his rod cast out over the waves.

 

Cries the captain once more,

“Save me, kind soul”,

As the waves begin to take hold.

 

But the fisherman stares

And replies to the sailor,

“I cannot save you, poor wretch”.

 

As the captain lies dying

Upon the waves,

He cries out to the ghost once more:

 

“Save me, oh save me,

Oh god of the wind,

For your wrath has overcome me.”

 

But the old wind-god

Stares out over the waves,

With his ghostly eyes so empty.

 

And the sea-captain fades

As the wind still blows

And the wind-god stares, unmoved.

 

But upon the shores

Stands another figure,

With his line cast out to sea.

 

And he cries to the sailor,

“Come, take my line”,

As he pulls the captain to shore.

 

And Boreas stares on,

His eyes now flash,

And he seethes with jealousy.

 

And the captain lies

Upon the shore,

Still touched by death’s dark kiss.

 

And the captain stands,

Some time now past,

And walks upon the shore.

 

Cries the captain out

To the old wind-god,

“Why do you hate me so?”.

 

But Boreas stares on,

With his eyes still empty,

And replies “you ruined me”.

 

"For your ship went out

Upon my storms,

And you spoiled my view of the sea."

 

And the captain sighs

And stares still on,

With arms still outstretched.

 

“Come, join me now,

Oh lonely one,

My friend and I still wait.”

 

They stand so still

Upon the shore,

As ages pass them by.

 

And still, he stares,

The old wind-god,

His fishing-line now abandoned.

 

And the wind still howls,

And the storm still rages,

But still the captain waits.

 

7/4/19

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