In the days of old

Journeys to the middle of sea

Brought fortunes from the products

Of monsters



Yet one such fateful journeys would prove

Trying to even the most hardened sea bearer

For the beasts of the sea would take their revenge

On a vessel of maritime lore



Somewhere in the deep south

Near the grounds of great white beasts

The ship approached to pillage them for their greed



When one struck back, the vessel took to the deep

Now abondoned, stranded on small open boats

Three doomed parties left on the open sea



What lye ahead was ninety days

To endure the harsh elements and insanity

Nothing but hard bread and stale water

A diet of ocean slavery



When the storm came to feed

The crew was left with nothing

Left starving and hungry

Winds of unbelievable nature

Waves upon waves, the beating



Watching the bailing till morning

The rain it never goes away

The nights never seem to end



Day by day the famine grows worse

Exposed to the full force of the meridian sun

Without shield, the burning influence pierces through skin

The thirst unbearable, fastly wasting away



Dying from the elements

One boat lost at sea

Survival would soon turn to depravity



And out they spoke

And out they spoke for lots of flesh and blood

And who should die

And who should die for a fellow's food



As one fell to weakness

The corpse ready to be disposed

In the sea

Lying there like a tasty meal of salty meat

In that, they should find relief from present sufferings

So preparations were made to preserve the meat

From spoilage

Separate the limbs - Cut the flesh from bones

Open the chest - Take out the heart



Now the cravings of nature

Could be eagerly devoured

A most deplorable and affecting picture

Of suffering and misery