There was a great wind

it stretched its fingers out

toying with banners of gold and red

Men and boys stood straight

watching in awe and admiration

The smell of the sea lingered in the senses

and she reigned

above them all

shouting down her adversary 

over the crashing of the waves

white crested and enraged 

slamming against the darkened cliffs

just a pebbles throw away

I feel lessened when I shudder

weak when I cry out

beaten by something so simple

unseen by the eye

my namesake

a bulwark of strenght

I want to stand tall as well

and yet I falter

as the Spanish ships broke apart

in bloodthirsty waters

swelling with rage

and engulfing the brave in the folds

were I the mistress of Albion

unscathed by my opponent 

I would resist 

I could fight

But my own blood flows against me

sucking away the iron will

and leaving frailty

Broken sails fallen

the invisible storm

a literal typhoon 

words cannot suppress

no fight can quash

I am conquered