Lost souls

Another poem inspired by the Iliad, this time for the Secret Keeper’s prompt. This week’s words are



Hoisting black sails in the teeth of the storm,

with the roar of the waves,

the creaking of stays

and the screams of the lost filling our ears,

we cry with the voice of the damned, home!

After, in the calm of morning sea,

Smooth as silk and supplely rippled

as the back of a favourite cat,

like fools we turn the battered prow west.

But beneath the sun, burnished white hot,

a million swords and spears in fusion,

our hopes melt like beeswax.

Though we scour the sea

through the mocking day into cold darkness,

sifting the waves for glitter and a last smile,

not a single soul do we find

to guide, dolphin-wise, to his final home.

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

12 thoughts on “Lost souls”

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