There was a sinking ship in her poor heart.
And no form of mending could stop it.
Damage control could not revive her.
With once great sails, it sank further black.
And there in its spot was nothing more
Than bubbled blood, striving to remind her
That the once grand vessel served her.
No such thing was a possibility;
Its sudden demise into faded inattention.
It sank. No mending or manipulation
Could let it fly through the heart again.
But a raft was a meek option she held,
And with the raft she’ll discover herself.