it’s quite a painful notion to be frank
outweighing those that since have come this way
while on this ship, though painlessly it sank
there lie a savior there who passed away
then stranded in this cold and lonely sea
without a strand of hope on which to grasp
I floated on without a chance to plea
my shallow breath reducéd to a rasp
and resting in the long-forgotten sand
the savior slowly ceased her tragic breath
not word of mouth nor slight of any hand
could spread the news of our untimely death
the golden coins she guarded in her breast
will evermore upset my peaceful rest

(this poem has been in my drafts indefinitely so i thought I may as well post it now.)