Ahab’s Lamentation


We start our quest for Moby.

Find him I must or bury.

Always will I be wary.

Walking on my revenge.

We’ll hunt him until we conquer, our fears.

No one can save us now, from the jaws,

Of the mighty Moby head long crashing

Where am I now is this a dream where I never see landfall again.


Am I “like the blighted fruit tree shaking in the wind,” bearing woe.

“Casting cindered apples to the ground.”

Am I lost to ye, forgive me.

I stand alone on an ivory leg, polished bone.

Only to have dry nourishment of the soul.

Forty years of privation, forty years I’ve forsaken,

Peaceful land, wife and child, desolate, solitude,

All for a life that was lost in the clouds piled high on my endless grief.

My only revenge.