Determined with a dedicated wraith was her anger,
Wanting vengeance for those who destroy her;
Myself being no exception

Smelling caked blood and tasting the salt
On my dry cracked lips.
I held onto the boat
For dear life as it was thrashed around.
The occasional loud splash
From the hungry beasts below
Filling my ears,
Along with the crashing of waves.
My life was in the hands of Mother Nature herself
And who knows what she has in store.