The wind howls, but the sails are still
Stiffened in the inescapable chill
Rigging once full of avian cries
Now just cloth encrusted with ice
Creaking wood moans low under the wind
Trapped and left with nothing to defend
In the bowels, straps and bars and manacles
On the prow, a sculpture encrusted with barnacles
Her crew is gone, alone she drifted
Untold eons since her sails were lifted
Her resting place is no captain’s fault
For he’s just bones encrusted with salt
The captain sits upon his throne
An eternal vigil, all alone
He stayed with the ship, followed all the rules
Stayed to guard treasures encrusted with jewels
One day she’ll stop resisting the call
And into her marine lover’s arms she’ll fall
He’ll devour her body, she’ll be lost to history
Her captain, his treasures, his hubris, encrusted with algae