listen: don’t get nervous but i’m about to post some Poetry
but it’s ok because it’s Cool Poetry and i didn’t write it, and it’s from ‘rime of the ancient mariner’ which rules
Are those her ribs through which the Sun
Did peer, as through a grate?
And is that Woman all her crew?
Is that a Death? and are there two?
Is Death that Woman’s mate?
Her lips were red, her looks were free,
Her locks were yellow as gold:
Her skin was as white as leprosy,
The Nightmare Life-in-Death was she,
Who thicks man’s blood with cold.
The naked hulk alongside came,
And the twain were casting dice;
“The game is done! I’ve won! I’ve won!”
Quoth she, and whistles thrice.
The Sun’s rim dips; the stars rush out:
At one stride comes the dark;
With far-heard whisper, o’er the sea,
Off shot the spectre-bark.
yeah so that’s DEATH and The Spectre-Woman (Life-in-Death) aboard a crewless skeleton ship and over a game of dice they gamble for this dude’s life
yeah hey maybe that right there is uhhhhh
well yeah maybe it’s the long and short of it as far as i’m concerned