Literature
Tides
Dear Lord, please allow me safe passage and protection from whatever presence may still linger on this ship foul, amen.
I pray to myself as I clamber my way onto the desolate galleon.
I hear the whistle of the wind resonating in my ears and the crashing of the waves against the creaking drift wood.
I find my feet firmly planted on the deck of the ship as I raise my lantern high above my head in search of another living soul but nobody could be seen.
Although, I can faintly hear the warning bell from the crow's nest chiming with the flow of the wind and yet with all the noise of the: crashing waves, creaking wood, whistling wind and the ch