Doom Anmerkungen des Autors:
Zu viel Zeit in EBWL-Vorlesung


Storm is a faded scream
As the Cog sails into the Black
Nothing is to be seen
Except the fatal crack
In the back of the ship.

The water goes high,
Clutching the wood
And the men know they might die
Even though they did what they could

There is not a single mind
Not thinking of home and the dear
They see them, though nearly blind
And some do wish they were here.

Some of us swear or pray
Others just stand there and wait
As we are covered by spray
Every man knows his fate.