The Lifelong Regret of William Chliria

7/28/2019 The Lifelong Regret of William Chliria

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A Voyage to Trade

With the raising of anchor and dropping of sails,our voyage had been marked to a start.

Trading goods, spices, pelts, or some nails,all merchandise in a crate or a cart.

With only four guns yet a crew half a hundred,Our ship swam its way through the sea.I am only aboard for my father insistedYou must learn of our trade, said he.

We are wealthy, indeed, from our clothes, one could tell.Well apart from the crew were among.

Bear with it, William. Get used to it well.Said he, for this trip shall be long.


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Upon our second week, perhaps half the journey,Im beginning to feel longing for home.

Not long, my son, just see us make money,said my father who was Captain Jerome.

Im missing the mansion and the garden, of course.Most specially my tidy white room.

I wish I brought books perhaps about Norse.That would be nice, I presume.

Three weeks have passed but still no land in sight.Nothing but these endless blue waters.

But alas, I see something. Fifty yards right.Most likely a ship of some traders.

Its sails were like wings, its crew, well and merry.Its flag was like that of our own.

No person suspected, not one found them eerie.But I felt this chill down to the bone.


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As it neared to our side, not one of us thoughtthat this day would be colored by murder.

Their flag was pulled down, our breaths, all caught.Hoisted then was a grim Jolly Roger.

The sheet was pure black, with an image of cross bonesand above it was a dried up white skull.

Pirates, no doubt, men with hearts made of stonesBefore talking, they glared cannons to our hull.

They gave us a chance to yield all our cargo.That way, no battle shall be.

But our captain was foolish; he answered a no.So attacked with no quarters were we.

My father, included, all of them dead.Our ship was reduced to pure sand.

Only eight became captives, all of us wounded.Im a pirate until I return to land.


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Aboard The Grive HiardTwo months a pirate and the lowest of ranks,

My tasks were the hardest of all.Im a boy of nineteen, to my youth, no thanks,

I must answer to each single call.

I was put to some boat to find food, any shape.Me weapon, but a dagger in me bite.

Two bandits for company to seal me escape.To best the shark, I give trust to me might.

I dove to the water; it was man against beast,My fang was but the knife in my grip.

An hour of battle then I turned it deceased.The wound on my chest; a long strip.


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They all were in awe to how I slayed the sharkfor I did what no scourge would expect.

So the meanest of devils does not even bark.Captain Oliver and the crew gave respect.

Five months a pirate with no way to flee.All us scurvies were a drownin in rum.

Amidst all our drinking, the Capn, he asked meYer strength lad, where is it from?

My desire to live, my wanting for vengeance.Theres apirate who slashed down me father.

Then his head cocked to side, a show of his innocenceIm amazed that he feels not a shiver.

And then on me shoulder, he landed a touch.One day, he will die. That be certain.

Aye, Capn Oliver, I know of that much.One day you will die. That be certain.


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Two years a pirate, I forgot to escape.For a thrill were them ventures and trade.

Wed ransack a vessel. As we leave, theyd all gape.To the mist and the distance, wed fade.

Quick was me rising, A first mate I be.Quite young to be givin some orders.

And then came this battle that we did not foresee.We took them as victims, as lubbers.

But then when we charged, much to our surprise,Blackbeard was the Capn of their ship.

There be this great bout where we faced our demise.Captain Oliver, through his head, a swords tip.

With cracks to our hull and holes in our sails,we retreated. To ashore, we were bound.

Then the crew made me captain to continue our tales.Im a pirate til the Grive Hiard is drowned.


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Captain William ChliriaWe patched up her sails, our hulls made anew,

twenty cannons to her left and her right.The Grive Hiard was older as well as her crew,

We now wisely select who we fight.

A thief, a scoundrel, and a Captain for a decade,I longed, once again, for my youth.

Much unlike in books is this horrid bad trade.With remorse, I shall tell of the truth.

Six years past, I went back to me home.While knowing that no one was waiting

Then there be authorities, they spotted me roam,With no questions, I was dodging their shooting.


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Lend ears to me first! Brash dogs! Do not shoot!Screamed me as I ran without pause.

They were deaf to me words, not even a hoot.Youre a pirate and you broke countless laws!

I be not a scallywag! To me words, I stand true!Yelled I as I shoved through a crowd.

You talk like a pirate! And you look like one too!Answered them and they spoke it quite loud.

They did have a point as I pondered long after.As a noble, there was no more returning.

I went back to me crew as their Capn, their leader.Weigh anchor and show me some sailing!

From that day, I knew, the sea is our graveyardregardless of the day of our deaths.

For many more years, I will captain the Grive HiardIm a pirate til the last of me breaths.

The Lifelong Regret of William Chliria

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