Only the foolish or the brave would set foot upon wooden plank and set forth against the driving wind and rain. Would dare to challenge the endlessly black majesty of the depths of a sea that draws them nearer to the end with each churning white wave. Seeking the guiding light of the house upon the rocks, to steer them safely from being dashed upon the ocean's razor sharp teeth. But when the light dims, and the shadows envelope them all, there is no hope. There is only the bellowing roar of the waves. The boundless shriek of the wind. The drumming of the rain. The chorus guiding them to their dark demise. The seas are stormy tonight.