What are we doing here?
Living life so lavish, ey?
Our heart have been ossified?
Turn into bones,  of fossils?
Their souls are petrified,
by we oh misguided.

Heartless are we?
For the waves of the sea,
Are more decent than us human, see
Look into the ship,
They are agonising,
They are hurting,
They are in pain,
They are in vain.

Where are we?
On the earth bounded by sea?
Or bounded by lines sketched by jealousy?