Brisk air becomes the morning dew
that glimmers in the morning sun,
but fails to warn a weary crew
in hopes a trail may be undone.

A voyage stirs more than we know
away from eyes that look to home.
Their faith in stars and maps don't show
the churning waves and frothy foam.

The gentle bliss that calms the waves
does nothing for the idle sails,
Yet still beware how wind behaves.
The sea gives rise to stormy gales.

A streak of light across the sky
wake up the crewman from their bed.
They now regret a quick goodbye
to mother dear or future wed.

They toil blindly in the night
to save the souls in waters deep.
None will live beyond the fight
who at their post did fall asleep.