Poem: Summer Prisoner

Last summer was the worst of my life. I just recently wrote this poem about how it all was like and how God helped me to save myself. It’s very obviously not literal and very abstract, like poems are supposed to be, I think. I’m new at this.

I
Last summer I was a prisoner,
In a cargo ship’s prison bay.
Shanghaied into the Great Unknown
To lose another day.
Not told where I was going,
Unknowing where I’d been,
The bluish light of loneliness
Into my cell crept in.
There was a slaver,
Wasp-like and red,
Who kept his eye on me;
Criminal he believed I was,
His stinging kept me weak.
On and on, this vile draught
As we sailed ‘cross the sea;
The stinging slaver’s words and whips,
As I longed to be free.

II
There was a spider, large and black,
Who was my only friend;
He spun a string of spider’s silk,
And I held on to that.
The thread of silk did ever waver,
But never lost its form;
Through the salty sprays of sea
And the vengeful storm.
Months etched themselves across my face
Through my tracks of tears,
Hoping for a sign of Love
But knowing none were here.
So I continued this dreadful trail
Across the awful sea,
Through every twisting, turning gale,
And wishing I could flee.

III
One day, when the slaver’s whips had stung
And my spider’s silk ran thin,
A Voice, through my bars had sung
My heart, the song ushered in.
“Take up your pen!” The Voice had crowed,
“Take up that mighty tool!
Your spider’s silk is running thin,
So write yourself a spool!”
No sooner had the dire song ended
Than I’d taken up my pen,
And wrote myself another spool
Of spider’s silk, not thin.
Having discovered my newest gift,
I again took up my pen,
And drew myself a sword and map
The revolution to begin.

IV
My map showed me a new land ahead
And my sword the means to win it;
So I escaped up to the slaver’s cabin,
The slaver being in it.
I wrenched the ship from his dreadful grasp,
His cruel reign being done;
He fell down to the sea below,
A new life had begun!
So I set the course for the land ahead
That shone just like a star,
It was green and teemed with life-
And just then not too far
I won’t tell what happened to me next
When I reached that jutty shore;
Just imagine everything I’ve told you,
But free and better, evermore.

This poem has made a guest appearance on the blog Scarlet Tea & Silver Ink, so be sure to check them out. Please don’t plagiarize, as the work is mine originally. Thank you so much for reading.

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