Ride The Storm

In the midst of mountainous waves,

Heathered in foamy spray,

Reflecting the swelling sea of clouds,

Hanging overhead threateningly,

A single captain and ship suffer.

Dips and divots and mounds and hills,

Gurgle and gush and spill and lap,

Bulging the bombarded waters,

In a searing lashing of rainfall,

Drowning the horizon in thundering malaise.

The reddened fingers and nails cling,

Digging into dead wood and prayers,

Strained and numbed by the gods,

Of skinning cold and pummelling noise,

Carried off mercilessly on wreckage.

Of course it hurts in the absence of reason,

Tortured further by platitudes and quelling,

But all this stranded soul can do,

Is be throughout all it has been,

And know there will be, as always, an end.

#HI