Sailors of the Night
Jet-black doors, snow-white frames.
Missing numbers. Missing names.
Home after home. Row upon row.
Scented candles on the sill burn slow.
Shadows seated upon city walls.
An eerie silence once night falls.
Overseeing streets of hell.
Pungent tastes; potent smells.
Dormant vessels. Uninhabited heads.
Journeymen and women rise from their beds.
Catching a glimpse of their starboard side.
Sensitive souls escape stormy tides.
Deep breaths, now stand up straight.
Flick the latch. Push the gate.
Goosesteps. Marching forwards.
Gathering pace. Onwards and upwards.
Here come the floodlights. Absorb the chimes.
Ninety-nine steps to climb one at a time.
The ship sets sail. There’s no turning back.
Snow-white doors; the frames jet-black.