Categories > Movies > Pirates of the Caribbean
*Showers of your crimson blood
seep into a nation, calling up a flood
of narrow minds, who legislate;
Thinly veiled intolerance.
Bigotry and hate.
The iron bars held no mercy for the two men within their barrier. The two men that clung to each other in desperation, fear, and love. Their frail bodies shivered involuntarily. Covered in numerous wounds, they were. Welts from whips, black eyes and bruises from one hand or another (after a while, all hands look the same, right?), gashes from different objects of torture, broken ribs, fingers, and one broken jaw. All wounds counted and placed aside, these men clung to each other, still refusing to let go.
*But they tortured you and burned you.
They beat you and they tied you.
They left you cold and breathing.
For love they crucified you.
They both knew they would continue to be beaten until their date with the gallows. Whenever the officers got the urge...That's what they were, really. They were simply punching bags for the intolerant bastards that called themselves "Justice".
*I can't forget hard as I try.
This silhouette against the sky.
*Scarecrow crying.
Waiting to die, wondering why.
Scarecrow trying.
Angels will hold, carry your soul away.
The older man cradled the younger in his arms. "S'okay, lad. It'll be over soon." The younger didn't reply. He couldn't have if he wanted to. His jaw hung at an awkward angle from the snapped bone within. Jack was angry as ever. How could he have been reduced to this? To promising his lover death just to ease the pain. Will was still so young...and his death sentence had been his love for a pirate.
*This was our brother.
This was our son.
This shepherd young and mild.
This unassuming one.
We all gasp, this can't happen here.
We're all much too civilized.
Where can these monsters hide?
Will winced as he shifted in Jack's grip. Too many broken bones, too many internal bruises that would have killed him eventually anyway. He pulled back and attempted to look Jack in the eyes, but he was just too weak. He slumped into the pirate's lap again, and Jack held him, silently telling him just to hold still. He didn't have to say a single thing. It would all be okay...
*But they are knocking on our front door.
They're rocking in our cradles.
They're preaching in our churches.
And eating at our tables.
*I can't forget hard as I try,
this silhouette against the sky.
The rumble of footsteps alerted both men and they held on to each other more tightly than they had thought humanly possible. A flash of red coats appeared and there they were--five officers, clad in their gold-buckled red coats, their tight white pants, their stockings, and their buckled shoes. Jack resisted the small urge he had to laugh at their outfits. And we're the ones getting hanged...
"Jack Sparrow, will you please come with us?" One of them said with mock politeness. Jack looked down at Will in his arms, who to Jack's amazement, had fallen asleep...or blacked out. Both happened from time to time. But, this was best. Will could not take anymore hash beatings or he would die. They were just taking him, and letting Will rest. To this, Jack was grateful. Let the dying rest...
"I s'pose yer not givin' me a choice, are ye?" Jack snapped. Wrong thing to do, he knew. All the officers got a hungry gleam in their gazes. He was in for a hell of a thrashing. They unlocked the cell and yanked him out, away from Will. Jack cried out and they jerked him by his broken arm out of the cell and down the corridor into an a large, open room.
*Scarecrow crying.
Waiting to die, wondering why.
Scarecrow trying.
Angels will hold, carry your soul away.
*I search my soul,
my heart and in my mind
to try and find forgiveness.
Jack closed his eyes as he hit the hard ground, all his wounds screaming in anger at the harsh impact. Forgive them Father, for they know not what they do...Something hard struck him across his back, and he curled, trying to make the pain swiftly vanish. No such luck. "Get up!" One of the officers barked, hitting him again with his own weapon of choice: a wooden club.
*This is someone's child,
with pain un-reconciled.
Filled up with father's hate,
mother's neglect.
Blood spattered on the ground as Jack hit it and was pulled up again. A chain suddenly slammed into his chest, knocking the breath out of him. A chain, a whip, a club, a chair leg, and a cluster of barbed-wire slammed into him on different parts of his body, knocking him to the ground. Then, he was pulled back up, so it could all start again. Forgive them Father, for they know not what they do...
*I can forgive...but I will not forget.
"We don't like your kind here in Port Royal! A MAN and a WOMAN love here! A MAN and a WOMAN have sex here! We're a clean, respectable place! There's nothing clean and respectable about you! Obviously, you're in the wrong town, mate!" The 'snap' of the whip before it wrapped around his neck didn't even make Jack flinch. He was bleeding from everywhere, and he'd begun to go numb with it.
"What do you have to say to that, you scoundrel?!" The chains again, thrashing him across the chest and back. "Eh?" His legs failed him and he dropped to his knees. But this time, no one pulled him up.
"He asked you a question!" Barbed-wire across the face.
"Answer him!" Chair leg to the temple, knocking him on his side.
"Well!?" Club to the stomach. Five different voices, five different weapons---demanding an answer.
*Scarecrow crying.
Waiting to die, wondering why.
Scarecrow trying.
Rising above all in the name of love.
He'd given them no answer. There was nothing to be said. They half-walked, half-dragged him back to the cell. The empty cell. Shoving him in, they slammed the door and walked away without another word. He lay there for a moment, wondering if he could move. But the cell was empty, which brought him a wave of relief. They'd taken Will to the medical room in the jail. He was sure of it.
Jack stood shakily, and looked about. He wasn't sure how he'd survived, but he had. He'd made it through the worse beating they'd given him yet. A small smile flickered into his features as he crossed to the small window, where a small smile died as soon as he looked out the desolate, little square. There was a lone figure at the gallows, hanging by the neck for all to see. The figure was alone. No crowd had gathered to watch his death. No one wanted to be in the presence of a man who loved another man.
They'd hanged him while Jack was beaten. They'd hanged him with nothing to say. They'd just led him to the rope, put it around his neck, and dropped him. Jack watched as the figure swayed in the light wind that blew that tousled the brown curls, playing with them just as it had when the owner of the curls had been alive.
The pirate sunk down the length of the wall, hot tears falling down his face. Tears of pain and anger and relief. He hadn't gotten to say goodbye. He hadn't gotten to say "I love you" one more time. But he had seen that they ended his lover's pain. They had finally taken a bit of mercy on the young man that dared to love and live his own way. They'd taken Will and released him from the hell he was in. That's how Jack saw it...it had been mercy, not hate, that had led his young love to his death. Mercy...not hate.
*Rising above, all in the name of love.
seep into a nation, calling up a flood
of narrow minds, who legislate;
Thinly veiled intolerance.
Bigotry and hate.
The iron bars held no mercy for the two men within their barrier. The two men that clung to each other in desperation, fear, and love. Their frail bodies shivered involuntarily. Covered in numerous wounds, they were. Welts from whips, black eyes and bruises from one hand or another (after a while, all hands look the same, right?), gashes from different objects of torture, broken ribs, fingers, and one broken jaw. All wounds counted and placed aside, these men clung to each other, still refusing to let go.
*But they tortured you and burned you.
They beat you and they tied you.
They left you cold and breathing.
For love they crucified you.
They both knew they would continue to be beaten until their date with the gallows. Whenever the officers got the urge...That's what they were, really. They were simply punching bags for the intolerant bastards that called themselves "Justice".
*I can't forget hard as I try.
This silhouette against the sky.
*Scarecrow crying.
Waiting to die, wondering why.
Scarecrow trying.
Angels will hold, carry your soul away.
The older man cradled the younger in his arms. "S'okay, lad. It'll be over soon." The younger didn't reply. He couldn't have if he wanted to. His jaw hung at an awkward angle from the snapped bone within. Jack was angry as ever. How could he have been reduced to this? To promising his lover death just to ease the pain. Will was still so young...and his death sentence had been his love for a pirate.
*This was our brother.
This was our son.
This shepherd young and mild.
This unassuming one.
We all gasp, this can't happen here.
We're all much too civilized.
Where can these monsters hide?
Will winced as he shifted in Jack's grip. Too many broken bones, too many internal bruises that would have killed him eventually anyway. He pulled back and attempted to look Jack in the eyes, but he was just too weak. He slumped into the pirate's lap again, and Jack held him, silently telling him just to hold still. He didn't have to say a single thing. It would all be okay...
*But they are knocking on our front door.
They're rocking in our cradles.
They're preaching in our churches.
And eating at our tables.
*I can't forget hard as I try,
this silhouette against the sky.
The rumble of footsteps alerted both men and they held on to each other more tightly than they had thought humanly possible. A flash of red coats appeared and there they were--five officers, clad in their gold-buckled red coats, their tight white pants, their stockings, and their buckled shoes. Jack resisted the small urge he had to laugh at their outfits. And we're the ones getting hanged...
"Jack Sparrow, will you please come with us?" One of them said with mock politeness. Jack looked down at Will in his arms, who to Jack's amazement, had fallen asleep...or blacked out. Both happened from time to time. But, this was best. Will could not take anymore hash beatings or he would die. They were just taking him, and letting Will rest. To this, Jack was grateful. Let the dying rest...
"I s'pose yer not givin' me a choice, are ye?" Jack snapped. Wrong thing to do, he knew. All the officers got a hungry gleam in their gazes. He was in for a hell of a thrashing. They unlocked the cell and yanked him out, away from Will. Jack cried out and they jerked him by his broken arm out of the cell and down the corridor into an a large, open room.
*Scarecrow crying.
Waiting to die, wondering why.
Scarecrow trying.
Angels will hold, carry your soul away.
*I search my soul,
my heart and in my mind
to try and find forgiveness.
Jack closed his eyes as he hit the hard ground, all his wounds screaming in anger at the harsh impact. Forgive them Father, for they know not what they do...Something hard struck him across his back, and he curled, trying to make the pain swiftly vanish. No such luck. "Get up!" One of the officers barked, hitting him again with his own weapon of choice: a wooden club.
*This is someone's child,
with pain un-reconciled.
Filled up with father's hate,
mother's neglect.
Blood spattered on the ground as Jack hit it and was pulled up again. A chain suddenly slammed into his chest, knocking the breath out of him. A chain, a whip, a club, a chair leg, and a cluster of barbed-wire slammed into him on different parts of his body, knocking him to the ground. Then, he was pulled back up, so it could all start again. Forgive them Father, for they know not what they do...
*I can forgive...but I will not forget.
"We don't like your kind here in Port Royal! A MAN and a WOMAN love here! A MAN and a WOMAN have sex here! We're a clean, respectable place! There's nothing clean and respectable about you! Obviously, you're in the wrong town, mate!" The 'snap' of the whip before it wrapped around his neck didn't even make Jack flinch. He was bleeding from everywhere, and he'd begun to go numb with it.
"What do you have to say to that, you scoundrel?!" The chains again, thrashing him across the chest and back. "Eh?" His legs failed him and he dropped to his knees. But this time, no one pulled him up.
"He asked you a question!" Barbed-wire across the face.
"Answer him!" Chair leg to the temple, knocking him on his side.
"Well!?" Club to the stomach. Five different voices, five different weapons---demanding an answer.
*Scarecrow crying.
Waiting to die, wondering why.
Scarecrow trying.
Rising above all in the name of love.
He'd given them no answer. There was nothing to be said. They half-walked, half-dragged him back to the cell. The empty cell. Shoving him in, they slammed the door and walked away without another word. He lay there for a moment, wondering if he could move. But the cell was empty, which brought him a wave of relief. They'd taken Will to the medical room in the jail. He was sure of it.
Jack stood shakily, and looked about. He wasn't sure how he'd survived, but he had. He'd made it through the worse beating they'd given him yet. A small smile flickered into his features as he crossed to the small window, where a small smile died as soon as he looked out the desolate, little square. There was a lone figure at the gallows, hanging by the neck for all to see. The figure was alone. No crowd had gathered to watch his death. No one wanted to be in the presence of a man who loved another man.
They'd hanged him while Jack was beaten. They'd hanged him with nothing to say. They'd just led him to the rope, put it around his neck, and dropped him. Jack watched as the figure swayed in the light wind that blew that tousled the brown curls, playing with them just as it had when the owner of the curls had been alive.
The pirate sunk down the length of the wall, hot tears falling down his face. Tears of pain and anger and relief. He hadn't gotten to say goodbye. He hadn't gotten to say "I love you" one more time. But he had seen that they ended his lover's pain. They had finally taken a bit of mercy on the young man that dared to love and live his own way. They'd taken Will and released him from the hell he was in. That's how Jack saw it...it had been mercy, not hate, that had led his young love to his death. Mercy...not hate.
*Rising above, all in the name of love.
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