carried by the storm over the atlantic
i flew through the dark and thick clouds
gazed down the masts of the tiny fishing boat
at that stone cold face flashed in and out
the mothernature's rage was broadcasted so loud
wave after wave, pounded and spout
up and down weightless like a feather
the rocked boat was smashed and sprawl...
a daring contest like a date with the fate
the skipper on his death charge looked calm and proud
perhaps he might be blessed once more
to come through and to return to his little sun bathed cozy house
or be on his ultimate dive into the dark mystery of the ocean
barely made to the last breath of his life for the free air came about
a fisherman fishes all his life to catch fish
one day he would get caught
