SINKING SHIP

Sinking ship

The Voice I heard, cold in sadness,
The tap flowing from her displeased eyes,
Where thy heart soaked with the piercing pins of pains,
Tattered in the soaking mouth of mud,
Dirty now in a damp squib,
The heart shape you kept drawing, now dead as dodo,
Where is the picture we took?
Out of the options I stood in the dung,
The dreams are faded and hard to follow,
Whiles she kept singing the song of the sinking ship,
Her heart is crippled, as you saw in crochets,
The heart lying on the floor down to earth,
Drunk in love with morning palm wine brewed,
From a stage drama she took to be mocked,
Whiles the murmuring of her teasing pain got her knocked,
Thou cast out her drying pain on the harmattan,
Hunting dust in her sinking ship,
For he left her to slip to skip the traveling ship,
A journey she dreamt of living with the Titanic ship,
The tears on the eyes of the ship,
Whiles it slips out of the grips of the sea with a swallowing bow,
Thy heart is empty and breathing down,
Sailing with the sinking ship not to be saved.

@Jcsonjenuis