Beneath a vault of bruised and weeping sky, A faceless giant looms where silence lies— Its hollow gaze, twin voids that swallow light, Watches the red boat drift through endless night. A lone silhouette, no face, no name, Poles the crimson shell across the frame, Between black cliffs that rise like broken teeth, Ferrying what the living dare not keep. The water mirrors neither moon nor star, Only the weight of souls that traveled far— One stroke, one breath, one final crossing made, Where the dead forget the debts they never paid.