The tide came in oozing foam, and crashed along the rock
that lay  among the edge with jagged disarray-
A flood compelled by anger without warning or delay.
The waves that break the silence and the salt that burns the wound-
a storm not predetermined; an evil-driven shrew.
A conniving mess of jealousy, the tide will not retreat
as it floods around my feet and strikes a grin of great deceit.
I wish upon a better day, they say " weather permitting"-
the beach is closed and so it shows my hourglass is empty.