Daily Prompt: Tide
Frantic waves that beckon the rock
And the receding shore that eludes its grasp,
The only anchor, sunk to the bottom.
Victim to the years of corrosion,
The metal turns dust.
The rage and furore of the crashing tides,
The swirling foam adding to the edginess,
Evasive hands, with lifeboats none
The emanating cries die within.
With water as its only hold,
A ready embrace reaches its arms.
Poised like a sinking warrior
Who has nothing to lose,
Arms laid down,
The eyes are just tired
Wanting nothing but rest.
The ocean’s floor calls out,
Promising to fulfill that very wish.
The ears have heard enough,
And mind has done its fill,
It is now time to sink
And to rest
For eternity beckons.