“Hold fast, abide or woe betide,
no storm afore had ever blowed.
A free-for-all when mid her squall,
such fear, begad, I’ve never knowed”.
True to her word, of legends heard,
and stood she by her vile renown.
Of what was stored swept overboard
and all above came tumbling down.
The bowline snapped, the rudder wracked,
and the ship near torn asunder.
Yet held she strong while strove head on
and put paid to going under.
She cranked and creaked, her timbers leaked,
her hold weighed dead with water.
She braved the waves where madness raves
mid a tempest bent on slaughter.
No vessel ’fore such wrath endure,
of a might that nowt could equal.
From bow to stern her strength to earn
and deliver all from evil.
No sail or line, a twisted spine
and her timbers warped with tension.
She rolled and fell with every swell
while defending her intention.
At last, she knew, nowt more could do
but to let the seas receive her.
The crew made land, from surf to sand,
from the arms of sure disaster.
Stood side by side in tears and pride
as they watched her break asunder.
They beckoned me, make hurriedly
as my love and I, hauled under.