Sailing ship emerges from the mist
Sea still as a millpond
Sails rigged and flapping
But, dear God, there is no wind.
Hear a sailor’s forlorn hornpipe
Piercing to the soul
Saw only helmsman on board
Standing defiant at the wheel.
He has no face but bony skull
Dark eye sockets, decaying teeth
Skeleton hands steering the ship
Brown and stained with age.
Waving bony hand in greeting
Calls to me with chilling voice
Which echoes through my soul
“I shall return for you.”
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