Silver – stanza 14.2

Courlain sailed the seven seas, exploring
Exploiting, colonizing, stealing boldly
In an intricate dance of discovery, death
And betrayal, taking secrets through the grave
Amassing treasures, losing them in a card game
Unlocking fortresses, exposing hypocrites
In pursuit of his own twisted justice
Ship to shore, inland until a river dragged
Him back down to the sea, mule trains, camels
Inhabiting every culture from within, peasant
Priests, princes and Kings, turning out the mysteries
For his personal inspection, understanding
Their language, traditions, their history, culture
Exploiting the shortness of their lives to move
Rapidly through the old and new worlds, a force
Of trouble, an archetype of the nomadic style
A fox or coyote, but far less principled than
Mythology, the morals of a conquistador
A Mongol, a Hun, brute savages, oriental
Princes, a whole spectrum of immortality
In the ever-handsome persons that are Courlain
Every indigenous islander, every rapacious
European lies buried beneath the surface of
His charming smile, a man who knows
What he wants, although he doesn’t know why
No pattern emerges, no purely petulant
Child, no selfish miser, no Sadean cruelty
Mischief mixed with self-interest and an
Adventurous sense of fun and profit

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About Lord Malinov

Lord Malinov, literary author, bon vivant, rogue romantic poet
This entry was posted in books, fiction, literature, novels, personal, poetry, writing. Bookmark the permalink.

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