pushed to the point of no point.

in the mystic distances.rain is in my sight,driven by star light into a relm of this empty place...Whitewater is starting to from.,oh the sun faded away..theirs no light guiding.my.Way..a whistling of the wind .. and the cracking of the bell... looking at a red sky,that's on my stern.smoke rising away the wind is howling strong.. now,, the captain,shouts out all hands on deck.he says that it doesn't look good.now you start to see an feel the waves smashing against the boat.shouting out again..it.doesn't look good Man...the wind now is.howling with a force that is of a thousand trains. we all.start to pray that it would just stop.over an over.in ones mind.now. flashing back through my minds eye..I remember the pack.a code once made many ,many years ago.with my mind at.ease.I start to see.that all is.Lost. and is not as it seems to be..