He gazed beyond the railing
that seemed less trustworthy now
as the ship rolled amidst frothy waters.

Assaulted by mist on the wind,
white knuckled and knees bent,
he fought the sea for the right to stand.

He called out to his god -
no, he called to any god
that might spare him from the deep.

But she glared beyond the railing
that seemed a trifle now
as the ship bucked fruitlessly beneath her.

Long hair whipping the wind.
Her arms outstretched, she danced
with the squall that fought her.

Entrapped by her eyes,
as gray and determined as the sea,
he cried out to the one who made him forget his god.