"When silence speaks"

In the cradle of waves where silence speaks,
A skeleton waits through endless weeks.
No flesh to feel, no eyes to see,
Yet bound by thought, eternally.
The storm rolls in with thunder’s cry,
Dark clouds like memories drifting by.
A wooden throne on water’s skin,
Where time forgot what might have been.
Did love once live within that frame?
Did laughter echo, wild and tame?
Now only bones, a hollow guest,
Held by the ocean’s cold unrest.
The sea, a mirror to the soul,
Reflects the parts that never whole.
And though the world may turn away,
The chair remains, the bones still stay.
So write, dear dreamers, paint the air—
With tales of ghosts in ocean’s lair.
For even death, in quiet grace,
Finds poetry in its resting place.