Thursday, February 24, 2011

The Storm

A raging storm beneath the surface lays.
All tangled in its dreary mess,
Grasping at the shore.
Burrowing in as a worm does an apple.
Screeching and howling at the cliffs.
Cutting deep gashes in its face.
Bombarding cliffs with hash attacks.
Careening at the shore with malicious intent.
Gauging out its mark without remorse.
Flinging its self upon the shore 
With a child’s raging temper.
Griping the shore, dragging its self upon the rocks.
Moving with a crash that could shatter glass.
Momentous flowing force hurtling towards the shore.
Then Nothing

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