A ship called why
I recently sailed on a ship called why,
On a grey green sea, in a cloudless sky.
For weeks I moved in the bright of no light.
Under the stars of a fathomless night.
The birds flew as phantoms, covered like dread.
The wind whispered sighs that hovered my head.
The ship seemed to wallow a courseless course
And my hammock swung, by a ghostly force.
I came to an Island of endless beach,
A forest too far in distance to reach.
And though I called out for someone to hear,
It floundered in vain, the void of no ear.
I built me a fire just to stay the cold,
But the wood only smoked from wet and mold.
And I cried to the moon to end this dream,
But the moon only laughed a cold white stream.
I drama this amour, with an endless ply,
On a ship sailing awe, by the name of why?