A sailing ship alone in time and space
is longing for a way to die at sea.
It is not known to men what did take place
Was there a storm, or was it mutiny?
But known it this: she is a floating wreck.
The wood is cracking and some sails are torn
and tired seabirds just omit the deck.
The ship moves on, alone and so forlorn.
The night is still, dead’s silence and no waves.
The ship is dying in abandoncy,
the sailor men all found their wat’ry graves.
A full moon shines and spreads a pale blue light.
There is no blessing for abandoned ships
that sail, not moving in the quiet night.
I love sailing ships, the pure esthetic beauty of them, the smell and the feeling of freedom I get when I am on a ship.