A ship sailing on the grace of the wind.

The sails are torn and damp with salt water.

Old rotting wood barely holds together.

The ship creaks under weight and stress.

To think that it weathered a storm so harsh.

Yet it falls apart in the eye.

At once it breaks and the captain along with it.

Ophelia’s eternal grave.

Tears distinguishable in the ocean deep. 

They cross the thin line between life and death.

With words of sorrow failing to leave their mouths.

The body slackens and air pushes out of the lungs.

The darkness looms in taking its spoils.

Moments or eternities pass before the sun rises again.

The shipwrecked captain awakes safe on the shore.

Identifying the remains of the former ship a moment is token to watch.

Nothing remains for them salvage.

Time to get moving.