A sea, a ship, a raging storm

A lantern, a flame, the room is warm

A floor, a board, wood twists and creaks

A hook of steel above where he sleeps

A crash, a flash, the storm will stop

A thought, a dream, the man fears not

A break, a ray, light starts streaming through

And the man wakes up, and is hopeful

A light, a view, the sky is clear

Alone, an expanse, there's nothing near

A stop, no wind, there's no way home

And on the table, a length of rope

A tick, a tock, the days have passed

A drip, a drop, clean water's gone at last

A rumble, a tremor, there's no food left

All alone will he meet his death

A cross, a knot, the rope is looped

A knot, a check, it's on the hook

A chair, a kick, the man will fall

And instead of decaying, he'll end it all

A corpse, a stench, the bugs will swarm

A cloud, a storm, it's no longer warm

A gust, a breeze, there's no clear goal

A crash as the boat hits the atoll

A canoe, a rower, relaxing in the Pacific

A boat, a wreck, whatever could be in it?

A light, a scene, the body's decayed

A noose on a hook is still clear as day

A relic, a mark, for history

A story, a telling, for all to see

A museum, a case, for some to look

Adjacent to a plaque is the steel hook