Captains log 1854
I couldn’t ask more.
Propoise what a ship.
Whisky remaining sip.
The crew is gone.
I won’t be here long.
Sinking to the bottom.
No wood rotten.
Something in the air.
Smelling of jasmine hair.
Falling into the void.
My years at sea were enjoyed.
The chapter comes to a close.
Neither casket for sailor nor fallen rose.
We do not sleep for eternity.
We sail forever in a different sea.