Weatherbeaten

Foaming blue waves,

they swallow the shore whole, 

crashing on broken rocks,

paying no mind to the storm.  

The clouds, gray like smoke

turn the sea dark,

a starless sky, a black void.

The water still rises, 

paying no mind to the storm.

The storm comes,

not without warning,

urging the sea to consume,

beating the rocks relentlessly 

without any lasting control. 

And the rocks and the waves

wait for the sun like always

with no guarantee 

that it will return.