Gaping eyes, hold your fear.
Full heart, keep it hidden,
Tight and true.
Steady now, you aching hands.
Though your sinew may be made of trembling,
Hold fast.
This wind and it's switchblades,
They will try to gut you.
Leave you rotting like a hog
In the hot and bloody mud.
But you must not waiver.
Refuse the sea when she comes
For the breathe in your lungs.
Because there is luck on the sleeve of a patient hand,
It takes wisdom to navigate these waters.
And the hope that you keep in the locker
By the foot of your bed,
Wait for it, it will emerge when the moment is right.
And still, there is time for everything.
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