A mythical creature
From a watery grave
We know her not
But our souls she will save
From beginning of time
To present and past
A sailor atop
Hath fell from his mast
The cold clutching water
Be his final place
But the first thing he sees
Is her glistening face
“Do not worry.”
She says so calm
“I am not like the rest.”
and holds out her palm
He hesitates
Then starts to speak
“I am a lowly sailor,
poor and meek.
Let me die,
for death I seek.”
She has a troubled look
Then says to all
“Life’s not worth living
If death’s your call.”
He takes her hand
And sees her face
Her image in his mind
Will not be erased.
A rise to above
A swim to the shore
And then she is gone
Forevermore