Plundered

Where shall we go when the sinking’s done
our ship come in sails a’blazing
bleeding treasure
shivered by the rankle of the wind?

Even the moon has a man that’s seen us
in our nakedness as adulterers and thieves.

Beholden to his maiden
he will rub her tears into our self-inflicted wounds
and restore her angle of repose
while we stand blind upon a shore
dredged from the Crown’s dowry
and deny we wore the pirate stripes.

Where we shall go will be our grave
dug by our own skullduggery
with shovels honed by her erosion
of faith in swords and flags and victory.

No, we shall have no saving grace
for we have plundered every place
and willed our children indebted heirs
to the maiden’s royal tribute,
their futures forever shivered
in cold recompense for our sin.

*Inspired by a geology lecture about our plundered coasts and the devastating environmental effects of dredging to meet our selfish need for “perfect”, bigger beaches.

For more information on the dangers of dredging, click HERE to read an enlightening article from Earth.org.