The lively years of my life,
emeralds of my youth,
A tale I’m going to tell you, an omen of the sea, sewed onto my very skin by destiny’s black ink.
on some corsair pirate ship
Tales of the Cursed Story/ art Kiakras Sfak I spent tossing the dice.
It was a big commercial ship, would make proud a queen, its whole inside was covered with untold golds and gems.
Black sail with, skull and bones, an omen to the high skies, no matter who beheld it would curse all of creation.
Life is a divine present given to us lavishly.
Whoever tries to steal it will have to face the Almighty.
We stole this ship one bloody day, one day in a dead calm.
Thanks to all the death and slaughter,
the sharks there had a feast‌
In its legendary hold
one would find so much gold‌
Our enchantment was so great‌
that we lost our minds and souls.
With such a filthy piece of cloth
it was tied all over,
sitting there, hidden, scared, on a small, dark corner.
Man, devious and sinful, you always seek more knowledge. This desire of yours to know is going to be your deathbed.
What kind of creature is this staring at us all strangely? Sitting in this slimy cage and frightened when it sees us‌
Then, from within our own thoughts we heard a stunning voice. It was that of the old sailor who knows this world better.
We all have been imprisoned and everybody knows‌
that if you lose your freedom, the stars don’t shine no more.
My brothers, let it swim freely, this poor, helpless creature, and please just let it go away to find its own way home.
Hold on a second, old sailor and hold your words as well.
This strange creature we’ve got here with the looks of a fish…
Perhaps it is your old man’s eyes what’s blurring now your brains?
One would earn quite a lot from it, selling it on the streets.
And so, we took the creature alongside with the treasures, and lying in the sea’s big arms each night we got lost.
Man, greedy, and deranged you are killing all that is good, come on and tell me, wise man, why don’t you ever rue?
He heard it every single night weeping and suffering.
The pirates used a filthy whip to stop its endless wail.
The old man, man of wisdom, born and raised in the deep seas, he loved the creature so much as if it were his own child.
And with a merciful stabbing‌
‌he relieved its poor soul.
We then slaughtered the old man using a sharp-edged knife. We threw his body in the sea as if he were plain chum.
It is a longtime custom, shortcoming of all men, the one who has much treasures to spend it on women.
One would think that she was born by Beelzebub’s own daughter‌
One can find between her legs the most desired flower.
Her skin was ebony and soft, a snake she had for scarf. And when she swayed fiendishly, she would seduce all men.
Our captain she enchanted using her pleasing kisses.
He was so in love with her,
his soul for her sickened.
And he, whilst being very sick craved for his medicine, opium, her beauteous form, he was led to madness.
He took her with him on our ship, tied her up in his room, where she would feed him with her love‌
Never was it enough.
In some way that was magical
she snuck out like a snake.
She would then offer her sweet love
to all the other men‌
Each one of us desired her, everyone for himself, and all of us together, we went through the Death’s gate.
One night with a dark sky
and with a light rain,
the destiny of our captain
was hanging him to death.
Now, tell us, if you may please, who do you choose for groom,
She then replied to us at once, emptiness in her eyes, her voice was full of pure hatred and omens of revenge.
to be your loyal partner, to rule your ship with you?
My loyal partner I choose, ornament of my bed, I want a man who’s masculine and has a sharp-edged knife.
On warm and freshly spilled red blood I want to spoil my feet, and from the souls that will get lost I want to ease my pain.
As many knives were drawn that night,
so many souls were lost.
And by all of this blood we spilled the clouds were painted red.
There are some days without light, some nights without stars. There is somewhere a sharp-edged stone and abandoned castles.
A tale I’m going to tell you, an omen of the sea, sewed onto my very skin by destiny’s black ink. Our merciful, almighty God, the one who knows it all, by ripping your very own flesh he will forgive your soul.
