"What questions?", asked the sailor, "Ho!", "What questions?", asked the captain too,
"No man has stood up on that deck and questioned, but a mighty few",
"You have a gun!", the captain checked, "A fine steel blade", the sailor said,
The first mate ran all drenched in blood with shades of cold and bloody red...
This poem is a part of the collection in my book “Across the wall of my mind”