Creative Writing: Last Hope of a Sinking Ship

The waves are deafening silent tonight

Their callous fingers scrape the hull

A gentle easing into darkness

As a mother her child

Our frail beacon falters in the sky,

Suffocated by deep vast blue.

We do not know what lies beyond our light

And all is dark to us.

The whipping white of wind seeps and settles beneath our skin

I hold the railing with unseeing eyes.

It is numb with cold

To my touch.

If tonight would only ever roll over into dawn.

I, captain

Of this ship,

Virtuous vertigo of the seamless ebb and flow.

The plunges of those untold torrents

Live deeper in my soul than I,

I breathe and they are part of me,

To feel so infinite!

So free beyond all thought – 

But the sea is too strong here.

Its hungering breath keens for more

For us and all our souls

Rising, rising, ever rising,

Waves heave themselves on board.

Night soft against my skin

I wait and measure

The extent of life, calling order.

‘Aye, Captain!’

Sinking, sinking, slowly sinking,

I see a light ahead.

Singing siren soft in sickness,

Mournful hollows of the wind

Cry out with the phantoms of men,

The hoarse chorus clashes in the air, but all seems silence now.

I reach out with desperate hand

For some last hope beyond

The light closes round me, cradling, calling

As a mother her child

And so the darkness takes me back.