BooksA Poem by Tate MorganWhere your heart becomes a cannon spit iron on the whale Follow him through perdition's flame then live to tell the tale
There is no ship quite like a book it wanders as it may Then takes us out amongst the waves where gods and children play
To places far and wide we trek chase hell's whale 'long the pole Crest waves with Ahab na'er the cape where gods may claim your soul
There your heart becomes a cannon spit iron on the whale Follow him through perdition's flame and live to tell the tale
As the oarsmen all stagger back cross themselves o’re the job No hope to see another day forlorn begin to sob
Imaginations running wild wicked cruelty sublime or till the end of time
© 2017 Tate MorganAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorTate MorganMarion , OHAboutAvailable from Amazon XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX I am a product of the Midwest. Raised on the plain states of North America. I was nurtured on a .. more..Writing
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