THE DARKEST EVENING

The sun has set beyond the sea.
From gale and storm one cannot flee.
On crest and valley fate rely;
The chance to live, man’s only plea.

Beneath each breaker doubt and fear.
Above, man only hopes to near
A port and those he calls his own,
The darkest evening of the year.

The crack of wood, the crush of bone,
No bearings or a mark to home.
Just salty spray and roaring wind,
A ship made out of creak and moan.

O’er cries and wails no moon shall rise,
Or lighthouse gleam to make reply.
‘Tis cloud and sadness fill the sky.

No soul or body lands on shore.
In empty graves the casket lower.
A sea of pain now runneth o’er.

– Samuel Reese