Sanctuary
My masts are engulfed in flames that do not burn. Scavenging pirates scatter, empty-handed, with no booty they yearn. St. Elmo, be with me, a refugee from a hostile land – a sailor… Continue reading
My masts are engulfed in flames that do not burn. Scavenging pirates scatter, empty-handed, with no booty they yearn. St. Elmo, be with me, a refugee from a hostile land – a sailor… Continue reading