Free To Roam

A warship she is, this ship of gray, Underway, underway, making way. The decks vibrate, the tone, the sound, Un-der-way-un-der-way, the pistons pound. On the horizon stands a singular mast, Un-der-way-un-der-way, make her fast. Increase her speed, begin the turn, Un-der-way-UN-DER-WAY, prop and churn! Balanced and deadly the guns do slew, UN-DER-WAY-UN-DER-WAY, the radars too. Fire first one, then pour on the rounds, UN-DER-WAY-UN-DER-WAY, competing sounds! Blast and shards upon the bow, Into the waves strike and plow, UN-DER-WAY-UN-DER-WAY, welds and steel. UN-DER-WAY-UN-DER-WAY, man on keel. UN-DER-WAY-UN-DER-WAY, oil n’ fire. UN-DER-WAY-UN-DER-WAY, smoke n’ ire. On the horizon the mast a tilting, Over the side the splashes wilting. Now all alone is this warship’s sound. Un-der-way-un-der-way, the pistons pound. Turn hard then steady, away from home. Underway, underway, my ocean to roam.