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Sailing towards an isle remote

A vile crew with hardy loot

Seeking refuge beyond their boat

To hide their haul in absolute

With treasure buried and map crossed

Beckons a tide of merriment

As watchers waiting to accost

Hidden the tribe grows abhorrent

The sea wolves drink

To excess

Away they slink

Too drunk to think

Or assess

Their numbers shrink

Confusion strikes back aboard

Suspicions, rumors, and conspiracies

Form from fear and discord

Swelling the beguilement of piracies

On the morrow when the sun hangs high

Lucid thoughts, bottles dry

The crew decides among their fates

To find their missing mates

Dense and distant grows the forest

Before long more are lost

The rest return in deep despair

Leave upon their corsair

Missing crewmates have been gathered

Prisoners of the savage tribe

Rooster blood on faces slathered

Rejecting all attempted bribes

Pounding drums lead ritual dance

Waiving torches, echoing chants

Silence falls the shaman entrance

Selecting hunters he enchants

Deep in the trees

With no swords

All weapons seized

The pirate’s pleas

Go ignored

Forced on their knees

Shaman decrees

Nectar poured

Smashing berries

Wolves of the seas

Still implored

Rising stymies

Escapes are rarely ever made

However surely intangible

Other perils lie beyond the glade

But none worse than the tribe of cannibals

In cryptic tongue the shaman speaks

Then in turn they repeat

Upon a potion the hunters drink

Hung on necks flowered links

Setting free the captives scatter

Thickets through feet stagger

Stoically the hunters abide

Giving game chance to hide

Few ever survive the ritual hunt

Unmatched in speed the hunters gained

Approaching fast despite their leads

Fallen found the pirates sprained

Ignoring captives hopeless pleads

Mercy and compassion lacking

Devoted to a creed they serve

Impassive as bodies hacking

A fate these pirates not deserved

Few ever survive the ritual hunt

Few ever survive the night