A ship is much safer, within the arms of a harbor.
Aye,
But that's not what a ship is for.
The skies may be rough,
And the seas may be dreary,
But the red hue of morning light makes it all worth while.
The water can be beautiful,
Even as it drags you down.
The skies can be bright,
As you take your very last breath.
And yet,
It can be so cold when you have the most hope.
The winds can be completely still,
And the breeze can still find your face.
Let not your troubles get you down.
Be free.
Just like the proud ship.
Far from the harbor's haven.