Mutiny

Nowhere near the shipwreck. My back is turned on a raging sea. This is not the man I wanted to be. A mere lancer in the navy's calvary. Now all that is left is this dying calvacade. Of vessels receiving foreign aid. And further acuitmentry. Another face torn by dissentry. A final resting peace that morns war and the final resting place of boys. And I my father's son am a toy wrapped in the vagrance of an awhal soldier. Send a message to Bolder. Mutiny at sea I would suppose that it's better then taking the knee to death's company.