A parchment of distant yore,
Stuffed in a bottle, green,
Was washed ashore,
Clear and pristine.

Worded carefully,
Short and concise,
Written ruefully,
By a sailor wise.

"The choir's music in the air,
is drowned by screams of despair.
The freezing water of the Atlantic,
Fills the depth's of the Titanic.
Dread and fear has taken grip,
My heart sinks along with my ship.
Through this worded rhyme,
My love for you will transcend time.
The ship's descent has begun,
T'is the end, Oh dear one"

For a 100 years clear and pristine,
A sailors words washed ashore in a bottle green.