It was eight of us that night
That left horrors behind,

If you count my cousin’s

Pregnant wife it was nine.

Though most were afraid,

We all chose a chance

At having a life to live

And escape evils advance.

The trip to the coast

Was only step one.

It was on the high seas

That difficulties began.

With destined shore in sight,

Our count was down to five.

Four died in a freak storm

The others barely survived.

That was a few years ago,

Frightened faces now forgotten,

Having each found refuge

Along the route life had taken.

Only focused on tomorrow,

And the things that are made

When starting over again

Was a hard privilege gained.
Ria 2016