no temple bells, no tolling chimes,
no weeping tide to mark the time.
just dirt upon your salt-kissed skin,
and no sea to welcome you home again.

the waves called once, they do so no more,
their voices too far from this cursed shore.
you died with silence on your lips,
no saltwind songs nor seabird's whisps.

but I will mourn, and I will name
those of you who passed without acclaim.
for every life the tide once kissed
will always and forever be missed.

Penned by my hand on the 23rd of Sarapin, in the year 980 AF.