The beach is draped with moonlight,
and the horizon is of dance.

The ocean is the mirror,
that supposes trance at glance.

So on its glassy surface
are boats that chance the time.
To let us spend the meter
with it's bounty so sublime.

Through a wake to carry on
the wave that snares and tears.

Over, and about the hull that might  
to crest it's ****** deck.
Yet in course with shore insight
with overflowing stores.


But, to capsize, waiver,
with the cracking of a linking.

And down into the tempest,
and now the shallow sinking.

It's hull was made to ride the waves
it's hull's now of the drinking.
Of the ocean numerous
and waves unfathomable.

This water so undrinkable
that crests above the bow.
Is the shock of all aboard
That dared to weather through.

The vast expansion of the earth.
Immense but measurable.

So to all a salty dog
who might drown fathoms full.
We're to see it then at late.
The haste alarm so cruel.

Then might awake, the many dead,
and think there follies through.
For inky is there just reward,
and forgiveness given few.

This there sentence sacrosanct,
and of what they dare to do.

Is the nothing of the definite,
while in congress of the blue.