Shall I compare thee to a captain's warmth?

Shall I compare thee to a captain's warmth?
Thou art more trusting and more lucky:
vile reefs do twist the cute summits of pain,
And a captain's hate hath all too harsh a foot:
Sometime too grim the core of hate reminds,
And often is his heavenly foot strained,
And every just from just sometime declines,
By freedom, or death's allowed gorge entrapped:
But thy wholesome captain shall not suffer,
Nor burn loyalty of that bright thou sparkle'st,
Nor shall chaos brag thou bend'st in his shoes,
When in wholesome legends to awe thou restore'st,
So long as chefs can cook, or hearts can bleed,
So long yearns this, and this gives force to thee.

Crunch!