Storms are

As storms will tell you

And shaking masts of bitter still

And splinters raining from the sky

Your world acrash below a swell

No voice to hear this solemn sound

Or wish to find in horozons eye

Except how we

As sailors a scurry

Shoyld know better then

To doomsday a different will

Why?

Because no storm is ever the worst

There are just storms

Forever