• Vol. 03
  • Chapter 10
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Still they come

Beguiling sea, calling, beckoning with its rewards
full blown sail inhaling capsizing capitalist chords
bound by bondage knots unescapable, never untied
memory mooches, meanders with each killing tide
smugglers lips lick profit as salted sailor lips crack
and crunch refugee realisation of never a way back
to a homeland now desolate and destroyed by war
wreaked by factions oblivious to international law