This is an imitation of Walt Whitman's famous poem "O Captain! My Captain!" It's really stupid but I hope you take the time to read and review it. The first one is my "Edge Chronicles" version; the second is the actual poem by Walt Whitman. In case you don't get it, my poem is supposed to be about Rook saying to Twig after their attack on the Tower of Night in "The Last of the Sky Pirates." Sure I had to bend the facts a little but TEC is just too complicated to translate into a poem from 1900. Happy reading!

By the way, the actual poem looks a lot better so if you have too much free time just google "O captain my captain" and you can see the way it's supposed to look. ff won't let me indent.


O Captain! My Captain, our fearful trip is done!

The ship has weathered evr'y gust, the pris'ner we sought is safe,

The sewer's near, the noise I hear, librarians all exulting,

While follow eyes the long-lost ship, the vessel old and daring,

But O heart! heart! heart!

O the bleeding drops of red,

Where on the deck my Captain lies,

Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! My Captain! Rise up and hear the bears;

Rise up – for you the music's playing – for you the old men dance

For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths – for you the sewers crowded,

For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;

Here Captain! dear grand-father!

The arm beneath your head!

It is some dream that on the deck,

You've fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,

My grandpa does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,

The ship is crashed o'er the endless edge, its voyage closed and done,

From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;

Exult O shores, and ring O bells!

But I with mournful tread,

Walk the deck my Captain lies,

Fallen cold and dead.


(This poem is by Walt Whitman - I had NOTHING to do with it)

O Captain! my Captain, our fearful trip is done,

The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won,

The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,

While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;

But O heart! heart! heart!

O the bleeding drops of red,

Where on the deck my Captain lies,

Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;

Rise up--for you the flag is flung--for you the bugle trills,

For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths--for you the shores a-crowding,

For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;

Here Captain! dear father!

The arm beneath your head!

15 It is some dream that on the deck,

You've fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,

My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,

The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,

20 From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;

Exult O shores, and ring O bells!

But I with mournful tread,

Walk the deck my Captain lies,

Fallen cold and dead.


Disclaimer: The poem belongs to Walt Whitman and the series belong to Chris & Paul. Not me.