Maelstrom

The quiet harbour shields the distant roar
As Zephyr draws a breath to blow a kiss
The gentle breeze smells of a distant shore
where sleeping stormgods rise from out the mist.
For stout, repellent, are the harbours walls
Encompassing the fearful in their sheath
Without: the torments, torrents and the squalls
where splintered ships damnation comes to grief.
But harbour life is stifled and becalmed
It finds no echo in a living heart.
Real living's with the stormgods and the damned
Amidst the torrents, torments: torn apart.
As from the maelstrom, choices soon emerge
A life becalmed or live upon the surge.