ANCHOR

Breezy and cold is the night

The land is way out of sight

As thunderstorm hits the sea

This little ship is holding me

Rushing waves soar high

As I'm tossed around I cry

Cold water chills my spine

Holding on tight to the twine

The salt burns my wound

When no help can be found

Fears of drowning prevails

As my weak little ship sails

Then I hear a still small voice

“I am the Anchor”, in the noise

“I will never let you sink”

Amidst the storm, just cling!

The sea calmed while I sailed

The Anchor with me never failed

My ship did make it to land

Now on solid ground I stand

- Grace Chelladurai Xavier