Our Unstable Boat

Treacherous is this sea like a falling tower,
Our unstable boat not a bed anymore,
Now a prison under attack of its own jailers.

Strong, nervous, deceitful waves coming,
The mere feeble boat remembering the beach, now thrashing,
No one at the helm;the family silently losing it.

One at the bow looking at the sky,
One on the deck blithely laughing at the oncoming wave,
And one covering his eyes crying. ...


Here the boat still is,
Everyone still doing the same things.