Jack Cohen

Safe Harbor

     We\'d been at sea for many weeks
the toll bell sang our woes.

 

When at last, our eyes did spy
safe harbor from seaward throes.

 

Through the fog, the lighthouse rose
pale light sat upon its peak.

 

Then a blinding flash of light
and all of our sights went weak.

 

 

Day 1


     When we awoke we rose to find
events of both wonder and dread.

 

Me and my crew, three dozen strong
stood wondering where we were led.

 

A vast misty island
spanned before us

 

We saw hills and rivers
Valleys and forests.

 

And all the while 
we cried in our exile

 

We were trapped here
in this land out of reach.

 

For in the night
the tide felt fright.

 

It fled,
leaving our ship beached.

 

That day we sent out parties
to search for water and wood.

 

We weren\'t prepared, 
when they spoke to us scared

 

Hearing noises they wouldn\'t describe if they could.

 

 

Day 2


     On day two, my first mate Drew
spoke to me most concerned.

 

He felt a gaze beyond the haze,
I worried when one party didn\'t return.

 

 

Day 3


     On third nightfall, 
I thought I saw

 

In my weariness through lack of sleep.

 

There seemed to be, 
near the forest of trees

 

Something lurking where the dark woods creep.

 

The sight of it standing there,
chilled my bones

 

The figure suddenly arcked

 

When it screamed, 
we all knew

 

The lot of us had been marked

 

I\'ll never forget that horrid sound
nor the reply that soon after was heard,

 

The thought that we are here alone,
now seems quite absurd.

 

 

Day 4


     I didn\'t sleep that night of course,
Just sat in the ship with my gun.

 

Of the search parties we send out,
we\'re now only down to one.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Day 8


     They\'re getting closer to the ship,
I think the fog\'s returning.

 

Every night I hear their cries,
We must keep the fires burning!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Day .........


     They\'re all gone now,
my crew, my friends

 

Into the night they went.

 

And on this ship,
gun in hand

 

Went the days that I have spent.

 

This wood soaked tomb,
this smelly bog

 

Is where I\'ll surely die

 

I hear the screams
they know I\'m near

 

Oh god! Don\'t let them hear my cries!