surviving a shipwreck

The timbers groaned, a fractured, dying plea,

Then swallowed whole by fury's emerald sea.

The world dissolved, a chaos, dark and vast,

Where splintered hope and wreckage spun so fast.

 

No star to guide, no compass, true and deep,

Just churning waves where secrets darkly sleep.

The salt-stung eyes, the throat a burning ache,

A flotsam soul, for dawn's faint mercy's sake.

 

The sun, a brand, upon the water's face,

Revealed a raft, a fragile, blessed space.

A splintered plank, a rope, a tattered sail,

A meager throne, against the ocean's wail.

 

The days stretched out, a canvas, stark and bare,

Where hunger gnawed, and whispered, cold despair.

The thirst, a demon, clawing at the mind,

A phantom feast, the land left far behind.

 

The storms returned, with thunder's brutal hand,

They sought to crush, to bury in the sand.

But something stirred, a fire deep within,

A stubborn spark, where life would dare to win.

 

The distant smudge, a whisper on the breeze,

A verdant line, among the endless seas.

A fragile shore, where broken dreams might mend,

A promise held, a journey's bitter end.

 

The sand, a balm, upon the blistered feet,

The air, a song, both bittersweet and sweet.

The scars remain, a map upon the soul,

A testament, to making oneself whole.

 

For in the depths, where darkness held its sway,

A strength was born, to chase the fear away.

The shipwreck's ghost, a lesson learned in pain,

That life can rise, and bloom, through sun and rain.

Done