Challenge
From the fog, the voices called. All strangely compelling, none quite human.
Legacy
Provisions are low and even worse
The crew is mutinous
We have wandered off our course
And a lone voice calls for reverse
But do we listen? No, not us!
From the hidden rocky cliffs
Comes a muffled moaning sound
Blanketed in fog and mist
Promising us the world exists
Calling us to turn around.
But the motley crew screams
Let’s sail our course even faster!
Is that lone voice even human?
These siren calls are the stuff of ruin
Let’s go onwards to disaster!
Now ghost fingers clasping naked shrouds
With tiller swinging free
Our deathly chorus shouts aloud
“We kept our course and are proud
This shall be our legacy!"
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