The ashen waves, they roar and dip,
Like lions they pounce in rushes.
They seek the lives of my crew and my ship,
But it's my soul that the leaden sky crushes.
The sails were tattered hours ago
And I've lashed myself to the wheel.
I'll see this day through or I'll "go below"
If the devil can't hold its seal.
My ship flies wild at a horrible rate;
The wind screams a terrible din.
I'm riding the current and chasing my fate:
Will I ever see the sun again?
Stephen Sanders
©2010