The Ghost Ship
Many fathoms down, amongst the bass and the bream,
Lies the ship of wonder, the ship of dreams,
Never to reach America's shore,
Doomed to rest forever on the ocean's floor.
Never to see the sunlight again,
Never to sail, through wind or through rain,
Never to reach its destination, its maiden journey cut short,
Never to take its passengers to port.
But maybe the ghost ship isn't alone;
For, never again to see the comfort of home,
Over fifteen thousand passengers lie,
Beneath the ocean, far from the sky.
In less than three hours the ship was dead,
So what sent it on its journey to the seabed?
Was it cannons, explosives, enemy guns?
No, an iceberg defeated forty-six thousand tons!
So why didn't the "unsinkable" ship survive?
Why aren't its passengers still alive?
Despite the danger, the captain gave orders,
For Titanic to speed up in dangerous waters!
On that fateful night the sea was calm,
And gave no warning of the coming harm,
No waves would break on that iceberg's base,
And the monstrous Titanic would be laid to waste.
So how many lives could have been saved,
Did so many people have to go to their graves?
Maybe they wouldn't have seen heaven's beauty,
If the California's radio operator wasn't off duty!
To the tortured survivors help finally came,
But for many their lives would never be the same.
The 'Carpathia' couldn't rescue those who were lost,
Those who continue their voyage in a ship turned to rust.
The gods sank the ship and ice destroyed steel,
The stuff of nightmares, but all very real.
As dawn broke the Titanic was lost,
The dream came to an end, as all dreams must.
May this poem be a monument to those lost at sea,
To the shattered dreams that weren't meant to be.
To the arrogant fools who thought they could build,
Something to defy what nature has willed.