THe sailor's wife

Devoid of emotions, a living doll
Of fragments that just don't fall;
A smiling face, but no colour of life,
Lo and behold, a sailor's wife.

Her heart of stone, at the mercy of her tears,
Breath is merely a formality, life is not dear;
Her heart hungry for revenge, is a burning tide,
Lo and behold, the sailor's bride.

Her body as lifeless as the waves of death's sea,
Her thoughts as hollow as a dead man's glee;
She wants to kill, in her hands is a knife,
Lo and behold, the sailor's wife.

Red skin, where hands have lashed,
Cluthching to dear life, the sailor has dashed;
Smiling to herself, she comes back to life,
Lo and behold, the sailor's wife.