Beneath the harden sailors feet,
lays open waters,
that go so,
far,
far,
far,
Down-
-that no one will ever see their depths.
to drop form the night,
into these glistening froth
is the faith of everyone whom travels the seas,
It will not be a peaceful end,
it will be one with the thrashing of waves,
it will be one that doesn’t leave a sound
it is one that every sailer knows.
Even the ones of the stars.
will they be recalled?
will they be searched for?
or will there lifeless husks
travel the open waters
for eternity?
-
Author:
Butter :3 (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: August 19th, 2026 22:43
- Comment from author about the poem: Day 8. This one’s longer to make up for the day I missed.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 19
- Users favorite of this poem: A.N., Tristan Robert Lange, Kaz
Offline)
Comments3
The form of this poem reflects images on water. It is interesting that the question of being recalled, searched for is pertinent in that on water one leaves no tracks water closes in behind you leaving no trace to be remembered. Well written
:3 thanks
My pleasure
Also this is day ten not eight. I was like not :3
What a haunting piece, Butter. The sea becomes an endless unknown where death, disappearance, and forgotten identity merge together...and the inclusion of celestial travelers makes that terror feel universal. Powerful write, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
:3
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