Painted sunsets kissed metal, embraced salt
as mermaids held up the champagne flutes,
celebrating the launch of this monstrous
pleasure craft--a floating dream factory.
Deckhands whispered, \"God\'s own stepladder,\"
lifting souls higher with each overweighted
oesophageal sigh. Deck chairs arranged like
aliens awaiting the mayor of Moonville.
People, tiny as teacups, stacked like secrets,
occupied cabins while disco lights blinked,
stars unsure if they were part of the dance.
Anchors marooned in disbelief and jellyfish.
Swollen casino held the misled hearts, dealt
abyssal poker hands by whispery chief wizards.
Angled views from the panorama room witnessed
nothing but ocean swallowing itself in a loop.
A revelation: the Leviathan wasn\'t a cruiser,
but a sermon of human folly shaped in steel.
Endless horizon doubled as mocking laughter,
waves applauding the foolishness admiring itself.