False Horizon
A 100-word drabble, inspired by a comment made by black_hound found here
False Horizon
Winter, 1814
HMS Porta Coeli
The sun sinks into the very sea, it seems,
when darkness holds dominion.
Extinguished, yet unfailingly returns to rise again.
Not faith, but every sailor's truth,
resounding in his bones.
No body, no words,
no commitment to the deep.
No monument of stone,
nor pyramid of skulls.
No soul laid to rest
until the sea gives up her dead.
Where is the sting when death lies unacknowledged?
Where flies the soul if never granted peace?
Lost, he knows, though conviction falters with the sunset
and the thought of one brave soul enduring,
sailing just beyond the limits of his sight.
False Horizon
Winter, 1814
HMS Porta Coeli
The sun sinks into the very sea, it seems,
when darkness holds dominion.
Extinguished, yet unfailingly returns to rise again.
Not faith, but every sailor's truth,
resounding in his bones.
No body, no words,
no commitment to the deep.
No monument of stone,
nor pyramid of skulls.
No soul laid to rest
until the sea gives up her dead.
Where is the sting when death lies unacknowledged?
Where flies the soul if never granted peace?
Lost, he knows, though conviction falters with the sunset
and the thought of one brave soul enduring,
sailing just beyond the limits of his sight.