The h2g2 Poem
Created | Updated Jun 21, 2003
Five Days
It feels much more than five short days since first
We tapped upon the steel hull of the Kursk.
That sightless window bringing us good news,
Of men inside alive and spirits high,
The craft were on their way that we would use
To bring them swiftly up to see the sky.
The days went by, the tapping fainter grew,
As all our rescue efforts were in vain.
Our hopes began to weaken with the crew
But still we went back down and tried again.
Rough waters made a tricky task immense,
The accident had seen the hatch distort.
If only our proud leaders had the sense
For outside aid to be more quickly sought.
Today we tapped, then banged, but no reply,
'Til now we fear there's no-one left to save.
A serviceman is often called to die,
But seldom goes so quiet to his grave.
Before us now, an underwater tomb,
Of Russia's youth a sunken treasure chest,
Lies charred and scarred, half-hidden by the gloom
And time has come to leave, and let them rest.
It feels much less than five long days since first
We tapped upon the steel hull of the Kursk.