The swore of ghost.
The endless torment of nature.
This ship is out hunting for the next victim.
In the dimension of hauling wind and merge rain-
waiting for its affinity to coaxing with it.
It spots you as the silent before the storm.
You see it by human nature, or
the cross of Christ.
A brave heart interwind with it and suffer like dead.
A wise man change course and save the souls of innocence.
Life do pity the dead.
Life do grand who win the war.
But life of ghost ship is sour rain and forged winds.
The only way to be alive is to love God.