The ship drowned
\nsinking into the pillows
\nof the lake,
\nleaving the surface of the water
\nwith an unmarked complexion
\nof gray.
\nA man picks up its story
\nin a bookstall.
\nHis own life sinking,
\na pale cloud on his cheeks.
\nHe feels compassion for a vessel
\nlost on the horizon.<\/p>\n
He turns the pages of the book
\nmarred by mold obscuring the print.
\nHis mouth shapes the lapses in the script.
\nMemories that should be there
\nand are gone.
\nA ship sinking into the murk
\nbelow the waves.
\nHis eyes follow its oblivion
\nlike the sun and moon
\ntraveling together above him,
\nas if destiny were a place
\nand life measured by its days
\nmatters little in the by and by
\nthat spells its doom.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The ship drowned sinking into the pillows of the lake, leaving the surface of the water with an unmarked complexion of gray. A man picks…<\/p>\n