Upon the sea where whispers wail,
A ship sails forth with tattered sail.
Beneath the moon’s cold, watchful eye,
It glides where restless spirits lie.

The waves, like gentle hands, embrace,
Guiding the ship at death’s own pace.
Stars above begin to fade,
As silence deepens, unafraid.

Memories linger on the deck,
Ghostly shadows, pale and flecked.
Each breath a story, softly told,
In the night, both calm and bold.

Into the mist it journeys far,
A beacon lost, a fading star.
The ship and soul both find their peace,
In the stillness, life’s release.