The Ghosts Beg To Differ

At crushing depths Titanic rests Rusticles- like red ice hang from her corpse [the excrement of fathoms deep bacteria] And now technology [ undreamed of when it was needed] peers at her [long submerged wreckage] from slick sub-like vessels taking computer generated photo mosaics [for investigators to pore over.] Once, mystifying questions are un-layered one by one from evidence locked within her tortured skeleton, revealing [ not the simple impact of an iceberg] sealed her fate] but rather, a 'series of happenings', [without remedy.] Rivets with 'too much slag' gave way letting in Atlantic's weight Her belly full, she hugged her center keel [in futile efforts] to keep bow and stern connected. As she sank, into eternity, chambered cells, [once meant to prevent the onslaught of the sea,] were swiftly breached Sea weight tore her great- ship's-soul asunder, and sinking to the sea's dark floor, she took with her, poor forsaken passengers [crying in disbelief ] at the cruel and lying 'myth.' See sawing down, the broken stern end speared, into fathoms deep mud, the bow rails stayed intact [for all the ghosts to lean on ] And with the solving of her final hours, it is unthinkable, that this rusticled specter [once so full of mystery] had been declared to be 'unsinkable.' ALL YOURS (Jun 10) Contest Judged: 6/9/2021 11:40:00 PM Sponsored by: Brian Strand First Place