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Christian Smith Poem
Ever long we stare to the East
The waters dance with glee.
Alluring at the very least
This symphony may be.
We watch those who know this beauty
And those who seek Her cheer,
We watch those who know such bounty
Yet nigh do these folk fear
That this dance be a siren call
A cruel temptress awaits.
Such cacophony nigh to stall
Virgin people from cold fate
For though Her waters can caress
Enveloped in her folds,
Some foolish bathers are remiss
In the power that She holds.
Hark! To arms! Victims call, 'Distress!'
This sound we dread to hear,
"Go now! Repulse death's harsh egress,"
As there is ceaseless fear
That there will be tragic failure
An agile step misplaced,
That the Ocean will call once more,
With smothering embrace.
And so we navigate her waves
The pounding force beware,
The mouth of the Devil himself
Comes here-forth to ensnare.
"Onward, dauntless brothers!" we hear,
"Against the waves we go,
For there is one who was swallowed
Fight for his life so!"
Into the mounting fray we dive,
Against the rising swell.
Now such ranks form to hunt for him
And pull from water'd hell.
Mercilessly, cruel time crawls forth
As lungs begin to burn,
Our hope wilts as it comes to pass
The point of no return.
Yet nigh will we ever desist,
We will reclaim this man.
Duty burns as Sun o'erhead
To bear him back to land.
Near the shore a whistle blasts thrice,
Do I dare to believe?
The call of a search successful,
A body they start to heave.
Hold for his life dearest brothers
Though the water crash down!
It is in obstinate resolve
That you earned your renown.
Hold steadfast, continue the watch
Arrogant creatures we,
To think our meager lives our own,
They belong to the sea.
Copyright © Christian Smith | Year Posted 2014
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