Wading through Venom
I love the way the sky defends the sea;
The way the waves do break upon the shore.
But when the clouds seep in to disagree—
My eyes begin to guide the tides of war.
My fingers twitch; I smell the herald’s fear,
I must prepare my love to play the part,
To save our sacred crux from the unclear—
And batten down the hatches of my heart.
For every storm is drafted by the lords;
I know this hurricane will surely pass,
However long it takes to wreck the boards—
I’ll stake our claims with ruins from the mass.
So when the deep begins to lift its head,
Lest we forget the beaches we have wed.
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