Shipwrecked

"There she swings, an empty hulk, not a soul below now,  
Number seven starboard mess misses Jack and Joe now."  
Echoed from the ghosts on the sea floor,  
Walking through the wreckage of a ship now, nevermore.  

Once the mightiest of sea vessels,  
And partook in the mightiest of sea battles,  
But now overrun with barnacles, seaweed, and kelp,  
And plundered by merfolk, a ship beyond help.  
 
Amongst the rotting wood, half buried in the sand,  
Glimmers a doubloon, from a treasure once grand,  
Caught by a rare ray of sunlight,  
That it hasn't seen since that fateful night.  
 
When the tide goes out,  
Sometimes you can see a sail beam, tall and stout,  
And the name, The Cruel Princess,  
Now trapped forever in the sea's darkness.  
 
The vessel would travel across that bay,  
Nearly every fortnight, and day,  
Until that fateful day,  
When off it's course, the wind blew it astray,  
And the waves carried it away.  
 
Early gales blew in that night,  
Putting them in a position, tight.  
The ship hit a reef,  
And to their disbelief,  
 
They went down,  
The ship went so fast, they had no time but to drown,  
At the far end of the bay,  
Amongst sharp rocks and reefs that day.  
 
The crew and their loot, were lost at sea,  
Where they had once been free,  
To plunder,  
And freely wander.  
 
So thick was the fog that night,  
That they couldn't see the lighthouse light,  
On that moonless night,  
The lack of light,  
Induced a great fright.  
 
Now, all that remains,  
Trapped, deep in the ocean's domains,  
Amongst a kelp forest,  
The vessel's eternal rest.  
 
The wood, slowly disintegrating to oblivion,  
The treasure of coins, and jewels, including obsidian,  
Almost all, pillaged by the merfolk,  
The spirits of the drowned, they did envoke.  
 
From the land of the living they've been forcefully unyoked,  
Their bodies, the home of epitokes,  
Home to pelagic species,  
Some of which are still unknown mysteries.  
 
A ship at the bottom of the sea,  
Where it was fated to be,  
Down where no one can see,  
Where the dead are trapped, but from their bodies, free.

Ahoy! There she is!
In formal times, gracefully gliding across the glassy sea;
her figure so stout and proud.

On a voyage (life’s journey) so resolute, unwavering
against the coming storms (challenges)
and serpents (assholes) of the deep blue sea (the world).

Her sails swelled by the gift of wind,
carrying her body so peacefully
to a coming doom (death).

There in that moment, she was,
a silhouette
in the burning backdrop of the far off,

dusking horizon (future).
No other words to describe it.
She was, gone.

-------

Rage, rage
against the daunting waves
of the deep sea!

They’ll batter,
and curse your body
till it is broken,

but you dear schooner (lady)
shall remain stoutly proud
and strongminded.

Your voyage far too enthused by the souls (babies) within your womb;
sailors that long only to arise one day
on your pristine deck to see the sun.

For now,
their informal body
man your beating heart.

------

Drifting along glass,
the serpents
have seized your sails!

Now,
your broken body
has had its beating.

What’s left is a black silhouette of broken masts,
Angrily piercing the burning backdrop
of the dusking horizon.

Your naivety boding ill,
not at all auspicious to your hopes in your life’s voyage.
In shores far off, debris from your life are beached;

to be salvaged by persons
whom know not your story.
To them you are lost, no more.

-------

Sunken beneath the glass.
With hearts writhing
with beatings perished,

this body, is a shipwrecked soul
not favored by fortune.
Suffering from the misfortune

of rejection
from society and home,
a castaway (outcast).

Together you took who you love in your womb
and carried them
to the bottom (suicide).

There
you will reside for eternity
in tranquility and rest (Hell).
    

Shipwrecked    
   
   
The bilious green of dull and latex walls    
Will have me lurch and choke my dinner up.    
There isn't any mercy where it falls,    
Instead to reach a point to fill my cup.    
   
I don't know what I've done to be in here,    
The bilious green of dull and latex walls.    
The sick from errant voyage' facial smear,    
How quick dishevelment turns to withdrawals.    
   
I seem to hear the gale that with me crawls,    
It too must feel the slog from gut to neck.    
The bilious green of dull and latex walls,    
The throbbing in my head, ungodly wreck.    
   
And worst of all I'm clueless where I went    
That brought me here among the siren calls.    
Which boat I'm in beneath its rolling deck,    
The bilious green of dull and latex walls.    
   
   
   
   
   
For the "Shipwrecked" competition with host AEMelia564