S.O.S

The waves are rough and hellish
The clouds are doomsday gray
The sea is unforgiving
Four men are in the fray

Their expectations level
Their minds are not at ease
They’re fighting for survival
All order begins to cease

They knew the sea was a gamble
They knew the game was scarce
And yet they took their chances
They’re numb to the concept of fair

In the distance an eerie rumble
Our mother gathers her strength
The sailors watch in silence
As the waves grow in length

Now they’re on the deck, gazing in awe
Nothin’ like a tidal wave
To make a man see God