The Voice of the Past
As I stroll down the west coast of Ireland, I come across an abandoned ship. Rust and dust lay everywhere. It spoke to me. It spoke about its past. It spoke about how life was in the 7 seas. The ship said " I'm the same ship that rode with Christopher Columbus." Life was going swell until that very moment .Suddenly, It was 1492. Thunderstorms came striking down. The boat sway side to side. It was like Poseidon had arisen from his throne. The awful weather had died down and I crashed on the west coast of Ireland, stood there for 522 years
As I stroll down the west coast of Ireland, I come across an abandoned ship. Rust and dust lay everywhere. It spoke to me. It spoke about its past. It spoke about how life was in the 7 seas. The ship said " I'm the same ship that rode with Christopher Columbus." Life was going swell until that very moment .Suddenly, It was 1492. Thunderstorms came striking down. The boat sway side to side. It was like Poseidon had arisen from his throne. The awful weather had died down and I crashed on the west coast of Ireland, stood there for 522 years