hands fight back against the waves
but they are ceaseless, oblivious,
mindless in the pull of the tides.

the moons dictates, and they follow,
it is no fault of theirs, yet,
nature will drown me, reguardless,
and there will be no pause or remorse.

just a shudder as i pass through.

and the shore is so close, i may just wash up
for someone to ask me, "Why fight,
with land within arms reach?"

and if the longing on my face doesn't
tell my story, then you will.

04/13/2007

Posted on 04/13/2007
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