Distraught in a Sea of Swords

Rigid is the boat we ride, though it's of wood and rope.
It acts as if it were dashed against rocks, but nay.
Not rocks, but swords.

The sea is made of steel.
Cold, unwavering, mindless, steel.

The decks below riddled with holes.
Filling with the blood of sailors not wise enough to climb.
But the masts even wont escape it for long.

The ship is being torn asunder.

All will sink.
In a sea of swords.