Ghosts

How many Mary Celestes sail On the uncharted oceans of your mind? How many lost souls vainly flail To clamber on board, how many left behind? So many unvisited ports Beckon, tantalize and tease. Does one survive on life’s orts And accept “Destiny” with peace? Which Ghost Ship's your succor, you ask? Who’ll take you on board? Are you the one who’ll set the task, Or the one to command where its shored? How much jettison to your account Is toted in your Book? How much flotsam can you count Which you wish you never took?