The Pirate Charon!

Floating on your own cloud nine,

Swishing and swaying in comfort,

Riding high on the crest of a hazy white wave,

Feeling like a heavens angel for a short while,

Your mortal soul in the mortal coil serenely frolics

In its last gasp of freedom carelessly flutters on hallowed high.

With pitchfork pincher thongs eager in wait,

He watches while your almighty saviour sleeps,

To snatch you up and take you down underground,

With blood curdled winged demon eyes and gritted smile,

Is the pirate of death with cowl and hammer,

Who silently lingers as you slowly but surely die.

He pillages your happy thoughts and darkens your plighted mind,

Across the woeful swampy stream of Acheron

The filthy bearded ferryman spirit Charon

Brings more victims for a price,

In his right hand, his pole is rowing,

As he grasps your lifeless body in his left,

To Hades the abode of the dead,

He buries your treasured soul with the rest.