Churned and broke
Swelling and receding
Foaming the raft
The cold waves have no effect on him
He has been adrift for days
His fellow sings a morbid song
He joins in, and laughs at the sea
With the sky seeming to dip into the horizon
Miles and miles all around
They have nerves of steel
With half eaten fish, and half thirsty
They sleep with their chest to the rising moon
At this, most would have died of panic
Not these
They rule in the storms
They rule on the unforgiving seas
Many years have they spent
In lashing, overboard, and on windless eerie silence
But always have reached port, to dance drunk, in glee
They are rough faced
Bearded, ugly, burly
Yet they are full of respect
They may have punished, tormented, half dead so many times
Yet these sailors will always want
To die at sea
Drifting into a red sunset
Like a viking on his last journey
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