The night was still, the sea was calm,
When from the depths, arose a palm.
A ship of ghosts, with tattered sails,
And spectral crew, with ghostly wails.
.
The vessel creaked, it groaned and moaned,
As up it rose, the crew intoned,
Their voices eerie, haunting, cold,
A tale of pirates, treasure, gold.
.
The ship was old, its timbers rot,
But still it rose, and still it fought,
Against the waves, the wind, the tide,
Its ghostly crew, forever tied.
.
And then it passed, into the night,
A memory, a spectral sight,
Of pirates bold, and their treasure hoard,
Their ship forever, a ghostly lord.