Where would I be to rest in lee
Of this battering wind that buffets me?
In all my toil, this sea doth boil,
Til light forsakes my frothing wake.
Upon this beast of darkened depths,
I stalwart ride withsailor’s breath,
Braced on the screaming wind,
Grasping tense my gnawing sin.
The storm rolls on, I’m left alone,
on the scarred and broken deck.
I know these men will sail again,
And yearn to mend this wreck.
When I return my heart will burn,
To remember and always be.
A man alone of flesh and boneSail spirit on growling sea.