Derelict

Salt, and darkness
Rust above the waterline
Barnacles clinging to the hull
Expending no effort at all
Drifting in some sort of lull

The wind died in the sails
Died a long time ago
This ship should have stayed in the harbor
Any home port which would claim it

There is not an engine to turn
Not a bed to turn over in
Can't find another human face
In any direction - where to even begin?

I'm not fit to climb the rigging
To bring it all to right
To prepare for a storm which may never come
Rain that may never sweep these decks

I'm dying from the thirst that I feel
Parched lips distracting from the hunger
No food left in the cabinet
Or anyone's quarters

What Captain stays gone from this ship?
By default this is mine
But the barrels in the hold are broken and empty

The stain of need on my mind
Can never wash out
Will always be visible
If there were anyone left to discern anything