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Gathered On The Decks of Our Longships

In the broadest of circumstance we all fall limp in the waves of life's inevitable tide,
Sheltered below the mainsails, we crouch hidden and faint against pools and night winds,
And the wet salt ladened deck and a blue hued night, as we fight, whip we mariners on our ride,
" Give us the freedom of the sails! " we lament, " Break us free from where dark night begins! "

There inside the waves and the foam lay our home, broadly outlined in our cool visual perspective,
We're all sailors you see, drunk on freedoms, dancing across this night of a more golden, wicked moon,
Voluminous, elicit derision. After all who can fool anyone while crawling toward a marked tomorrow's objective?
Punished sailors all, we're fighting roaring winds on salt ladened ships, trading rancors for a cool golden doubloon.

Thom Douglas Carlisle ( Irish Tommy Moran ) - Ireland

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