Davy Jones

Here he lies,

Down within the depths of

That vast domain,

The domain of Poseidon,

Or the myriads of the glorious encampment,

Deep beneath the sea.

And all diluted conformance,

Necromancy steeled, perform,

Just for us,

The beauty, the enticing,

Master of all unknown.

See him fly!

Our master unknown,

Over those dark depths.

May we pray his mercy.

For at his hands,

The tides of swelling doom

Forced in penetration upon us.

He lies where we know not.

May God watch over ye,

Ye brave seafarers,

Maritime be in the locker.

See him rise,

Above his own solitude,

Out of the rising depths,

Of his domain, or his aptitude.

Never man shall overcome

What power resides,

In the hands of the one of the deep,

Satan hath fear.

He knows not of fear,

For he was swallowed long ago,

And has conquered the oceans abode.

Ne’er more over shall one man see

The fear in the reflection of his eyes,

Or the darkest hour in the darkest hole,

A simple attic to the depths of Davy Jones.

Ne’er a man to survive his mercy,

Or a woman to resist temptation.

Death requires a soul, after all.

Death of the dark deep ocean, that is.

He is not the force to reckon with.

After all, he is

what he created, what he rules, controls.

They say,

At the bottom of Davy Jones’ locker,

Lies many secrets,

But only one treasure.

The only treasure a man can hold

Close to his heart,

Without a second guess in the world.

That treasure, which many men

May pleasure or keep

Lies in the heart of another-

On a silver chain.

This heart so greatly feared the sea,

His sea!

But not his domain.

He was alone when he claimed the tide-

And the heart of his heart dived

In deeper depths,

Hands clutched

Around the heart on the silver chain,

A gift, she proposed,

To his majestic kingdom

Of the deep black depths.

And when he found,

This silver chain,

Locked in the cold blue fingers,

They say,

He dug the deepest hole at the bottom

Into an eternal abyss.

It is,

His love,

His passion,

His force upon the Earth.

They say,

If Jones drags you down

Into the deepest depths,

He tells you

A story

And offers you a choice.

One of,

Repent

Or

Mercy.

Either way, you pass on.

No man e’er so brave

As to stand

Or even swim

To face Davy Jones

And challenge

His authority.

It is

Impossible

Anyway.

Ne’er a man to survive,

The locker of Davy Jones.