Unprepared
unknown
alone
one
way
by afternoon the sea whistles
chilled air not at all gradually
escalating a gale
an ill wind cried
deluge coming
that night of woe crossing
without a friend
each rising wave
no up nor down
no lessening no mercy
entire fleets of buccaneers
playing war and fear
pilgrims nomads
a vanity of
foolish pride
engulfing tempest
a sea un-parted
sentenced by decree
to gulping water
no boat no teacher only nature
sirens prayers contrition
wailing desperation
but who could listen
there was no turning back
some would not return
in its eye and with a flash
lightening shone
on wars within
between death and sin
life begins
tears would stem
a standstill
ceasing hurling metal
for those who cradle
what life is really worth
briny flux licks
calcined bodies
striped and raw
washed-up somehow
to shores unknown
wounded in deep sleep
it would take
till a sunrise
to stand again
and wonder why
so the story begins
Image: Tempest detail - synthetic polymer paint on canvas ply panel jskewes
So good, Jeffree, I particularly admire the ending.
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