Revenant

Mar 15, 2006 00:38

Tis a lonely life. Or so it appears. Be it my own doing or by the Hand of God, the open seas out there seem far more sparce and empty than what they once were. The soul of this Lady withers from the loss of fellow comrade in arms. Their absense and disappearance makes m' heart ache to drunk rum with them, sit an' sing songs, and other pleasurable joys that can surface within this wicked mind.

But.. alas... not a soul.
If ol' Barbossa had a fate so horrible... I feel I can sympathize with that fate. For it feels.. that I am cursed or have been marooned, left to where I am to rot under the bleeching sun and cold moon.

Do I wish to be left in the dust or to Davy Jones? Nay... not this Lady. I want to feel excitement again... to feel th' rush of racing away as Guards fire at me, roundshot barely missing my body... to feel the heat of battle and drink in it's taste... to feel the wealth of many nations between my fingers after plundering it from an unfortunate vessel or being... and more importantly, to feel the warmth embrace of a Gentleman's arms, to hear his desires and feel his lust.

Aye... I am flesh, I am a woman. A mere mortal. Oh, God I beg do not deny me further from what you have already denied me.

Do I remain revenant? Or will I be resurrected?
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