You sit now
                        stranded,
moored to nothing,
          going nowhere,
your bilges dry,
your engines shut
down
and
         up
inside the salt-rusted
skin, pocked with rot,
where once you
sliced across
the water's top,
a vessel full
of
life,
bow and stern,
prop and anchor,
never
           ever
in your mindless
dreams believing
you would stop,
and
        no one
would even care-
no sailors,
no cargo,
no sunrises,
sunsets,
waves and beasts of the
                                               deep
to sound their fare-thee-wells,
no more those chimed
                 8 bells,
you,
now stopped,
docked
and
        alas,
forgot.
_
Derelict:
http://beautyineverything.com/5096209757