Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 25
He stands -
his waist propped against the rails.

Who knows what salt from his skin,
would see the dawning sun
as the storm in the dark stretched
into forever.

He’d called out to her before...
Yet never against howling winds
and thundering bolts.
Still he calls to her now,
into the towering waves
and blackened horizon.

He doesn’t hear her like always...
Not this time...
For his heart is pounding in his ears,
and the heavy marble droplets
pelt him from the ocean and sky.

Overwhelmed with exhaustion,
still he fights - with tonnes of steel
beneath his feet,
the memory of her voice in his head
and the love in his heart.

He grips the the railing tight
and lets out a final cry into the night -
a last display of rebellion and resentment
to the gods.

He sees her...
He smiles and concedes defeat
as the vessel roars and creaks
before finally disappearing
into the ravenous belly of the ocean.
A mirror piece - read β€œLast Stand (Her)”
ryn
Written by
ryn  πŸ‡ΈπŸ‡¬
(πŸ‡ΈπŸ‡¬)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems