Ship sails burst in flames like water on grease
Sweating, I grab the tiller and jaunt astray
My hands, they ache from the cold and the breeze
The ship turns slowly, far and away
Each joint and bone frozen to the brass
The great guns boom and cannon balls sail
Frost bites into the knuckles but I hold fast
The mast bucks hard and splinters against the rail
Crash, the main sail comes down hard
Almost thrown, I lash myself to the wheel
Our merry ship once a beaut’ now forever marred
Below the seas, I feel the snap of our keel
The battle lost and long forgot
My dead eyes stare at the unbroken waters
All our efforts were all for naught
Now a ship, only ghosts left from the slaughter
Jon Gray Lang.com 