O who will sing that rudderless ship
that has lost her destiny?
With her sails in rags
and her lines in snags,
-- the Ship of the Dead is free!
The captain lies in a coma,
his hands clutch helplessly,
and the shantyman chokes
and wheezes and croaks:
-- the Ship of the Dead is free!
The crew are extict and jolly,
they gnaw themselves hungrily,
and their black lips grin
as the rigor sets in:
-- the Ship of the Dead is free!
The pilot has smashed the compass,
and tramples the sextant with glee:
he erases the log
and steers by the fog;
-- the Ship of the Dead is free!
O the skeleton climbs the rigging;
his sockets scan the sea,
and he cries to the crew:
No land in view!
-- the Ship of the Dead is free!
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Copyright 2025 by Jon Corelis
joncorelis.com
