Guidance on Wings

I seek the albatross that flys off the shores. Its wings expand across two fathoms if not more. Its grace lets it glide through the brisk cold South Atlantic seas looking for miles for which I can't see. Amongst the clouds flying in and out, the albatross brings hope of a way out. As my men grow weary, I still look to the albatross. It knows the path of salvation for us all from this retched vessel for us to be. I give up the helm for rest and tell my colleague to follow. As I sleep I hear a shout for joy, is it land!? Are we there!? As I come from the bow I look around to see a man with a crossbow and no albatross do I see. The men are dragging something out of the sea. I run to the side to see the blessed albatross hooked and floating in the sea. My hope is gone and this vessel is dead for there is no site of land and food for my blessed men to be. Little did they know they killed the guide of my vessel and the direction of hope for me. As days move on many men have been dumped in fear of disease. Little did they know they could have avoided this if the albatross was still here and guiding me. Each man lay down and fall into eternal sleep, I fight to find my blessed albatross. I will not give up my life because someone was hungry. I stir and stir into the sea. Low and behold it is a swarm of albatross in the distance and it is just me. I do what I can to get to land but by now I am gone. Once I get a shore then people will talk that this man found the albatross and fought to get home but it was too late. He is gone with the albatross amongst clouds and the sea.


I hope this is not too close to the reign of the ancient mariner.