A sailor leaned o'er the vessel's side,
And gazed in the rippling sea—
"Christ save us!" said he, and started back,
"A shark swims under the lee."

His comrades looked close under the lee,
With a fixed and glassy stare;
They saw a fin and a glittering back
Now sink, and now rise in air.

Ho! bait a strong line, the captain cried,
Then muttered a passing curse;
For the greedy shark still followed on,
Like mourner the gloomy herse.

All day, all night, the daintiest bait
Towed close to the shark's fell jaw—
"He follows the ship, and not the bait!"
"Yet," quoth Ned, "he'll fill his maw."

The sick man lay on his restless bed,
A fever had scorched his brain;
While the hot blood gushed in lava tides,
And hissed through each bursting vein.

Black Edward leaned o'er the sick man's bed,
And glared on his enemy;
His head, like a coiléd snake, he bent—
"A shark swims under the lee!"

Great God, but it was a fearful thing
To hear the poor sufferer rave!
To see the red flushes come and go,
Like sun-beams over the wave!

And ever he muttered in low tones
Of the bitterest agony,
While his heart boomed like a tolling bell,
"A shark swims under the lee!"

He bounded up from his narrow bed,
And fell on his bended knee;
"Christ save me," cried he, and loudly wept,
"From the shark under the lee!"

Black Edward laughed o'er the vessel's side
As the sun set bloody red;
The shark lept up as for very joy—
Quoth one, "The sick man is dead."

They poised the corse o'er the rushing waves;
Alas! how their spirits sank!
"Don't throw him," they cried, "to yonder shark!"
Black Ned kicked over the plank.

With a bound sprang forth the greedy shark,
And his horrid jaws upraised,
He tore the shroud like a rotten rag—
The crew in pale horror gazed.

He dragged the torn body from the shroud,
And the sea was red with gore—
"God shield us!" they cried, and closed their eyes;
But the shark was ne'er seen more.

With fingers weary and worn,
And eyes heavy and red,
A person sits, all alone, forlorn,
A phone held tight in bed.
Swipe! Scroll! Swipe!
Through the newsfeed's endless flow,
And still, with a vacant stare, they type,
In the phone's pale, ghostly glow.

Tap, tap, tap,
On the glass, cold and bright,
'Til the sun outside starts to lap,
And shadows yield to light.
Oh! Men with sisters dear!
Oh! Men with mothers and wives!
Is it not their souls you should hold so near,
Not the screens that rule your lives!

Swipe! Scroll! Swipe!
Through curated, filtered scenes,
Where happiness is always ripe,
And life's a highlight reel, it seems.
Compare, contrast, despair,
In this digital, mirrored hall,
Is it joy that you find there?
Or the seeds of a bitter fall?

Tap, tap, tap,
In the silence of the room,
While the real world takes a nap,
And relationships wilt in the gloom.
Love letters left unread,
Conversations left unsaid,
For the phone calls, a siren's spread,
A connection to nowhere, instead.

Oh! But to breathe the air,
And to feel the sun's warm kiss,
To escape this digital snare,
And find true human bliss.
But the phone's grip is tight,
A constant, hungry need,
In the darkness of the night,
On its endless feed, they feed.

Swipe! Scroll! Swipe!
From dawn 'til day is done,
A life lived in a digital stripe,
A race that can't be won.
Tap, tap, tap,
Though their spirit starts to fray,
They're caught in the phone's cruel trap,
And they can't look away, can't look away.

With fingers weary and worn,
And eyes heavy and red,
A person sits, all alone, forlorn,
A phone held tight in bed.
Swipe! Scroll! Swipe!
In a world that's lost its way,
They've traded their soul, swipe by swipe,
For a screen's cold, empty sway.