Is this stillness in the air
The calm before the storm?
Red sky at night, sailor’s delight
But be wary on the morn.
Though still, the air is heavy,
And falls weighty as a shroud.
A curtain call, a funeral pall,
For the mighty, and the proud.
Now a breath of warning,
As the wind begins to rise.
It moans and wails, and fills our sails,
And hearkens danger with its cries.
Beware the drums of heaven,
And the spears of light that show.
Lest your grave be in the waves
With the devil down below.
Batten down the hatches, boys!
And lash unto the deck!
Steady the helm! Through the realm
Of nature’s hell we trek.
No chance to turn about!
Let your true colors show!
Alive or dead, we forge ahead-
Into the maelstrom we now go.
Beware the drums of heaven,
And the spears of light that show.
Lest your grave be in the waves
With the devil down below.