𝔹𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℝ𝕚𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕘

heavy fog concealed

the world

emerged a figure

silently gliding through

faded sails embracing tightly

the weathered mast

a scarred deck creaking

as if speaking

beneath the rising swells

lay the ruins

of those who now dwell

shiny grommets stare

up

through the murky depths

below

to see

nestled against an

unweathered mast

decks without scar

tightly fitted

still-polished brass instruments

stopped mid-sentence

the old vessel slows

to hear

comes the wind

to fill faded sails

a powerful push

safety

on the open sea

silently

glides through

the heavy fog

conceals the trace

of her.