I envy the first wave
Which hit those rocks
With all its might.

Unlike the feeble ones,
For they have helplessly  
Seen the horrendous sight

Of those poor vanquished,
Whose drops spatter their enemies
After fighting the good fight.

They fall back in sorrow,
Hampering their freshly nearing mates,
And altering their blue to white.

I know they're ill-fated,
Attempting to break but break,
And fade into the night.

Yet they'll soon be rising
Against those blocks
and cliffs in broad daylight.

Mine come in waves of zealous despair,
Determined to change the rock,
And to do what is right.