The Ship

That trust was found becomes me like a fish
Out of water's grasp; so much so is your
Tale to me. A mast wobbles at sea
And follows a precarious wind; to
The death of all on board. Yet I'd board it
Still for the sake of life, despite it's crew.
What promise was given that was not broke
By some sailor? Where yonder in the blue
Of the ocean vast did he betray trust,
Take fast his own life without knowing who
Would be watching for his betrayal? But
Though the bulkhead succumb to holes by shrew
Made choices along the way I'll save her,
And stay on board; or else the day I'll rue. 

               The Ship, (c) Luke Bennette, June 2012