The Ballad of the Captain’s Course

Upon a vast and starlit tide,
Where shadows cloak the borders wide,
The vessel plows the distant creep,
Secrets asleep and bounty steep.
It holds the whispers, vain and thin,
Of hunger clawing from within.
Of grand songs and fleeting fame,
A path none return the same.

The void, it hums with abundant griefs,
Siren’s calls, pirate thieves.
Ambitions cruel and love disgraced,
Among the stars, those are traced.
The ancestral throne, a gilded snare,
The warrant bound to a single heir.
And the evil grows where trust decays,
As closest bond the one betrays.

Storms of warp, skies of yonder,
Voyages of blight and wonder.
Fleeting treasures, the dying son,
Battles fought but glory gone.
At stars afar, the path grows grim,
Echoes scar their sound within.
Each breath a ghost, each step a chain,
Of triumphs laced with bitter gain.

Heed now this tale, this dire refrain,
Of hearts forsaken, kindred slain.
Throne’s hammer, the sibling’s knife,
The high cost of might and strife.
The void consumes, it does not weep,
Its silence vast, its hunger deep.
What began as flame has turned to shade,
On the course the Captain made.

And the Sun looks down with a piercing gift,
Upon the vessel lost adrift.
A warning carved by the hard vacuum:
“No shine of glory, no love for you.“
Yet tides still churn, where Captain dwells,
With malign tolls of cursed bells.
His wheel revolves, by an obscure maze,
To the coldest dark, his soul obeys.