A Rock and a Hard Place

I am lucky enough to have been brought up by the sea and have often found solace on the cliffs. This is an account of one of those experiences.

Peace.
How best to find peace?
Peace in turmoil.
That would be powerful peace.
That’s where I find mine.
Above a furious ocean; a grimacing mouth- wide.
Frothing with unrelenting rage.
Pearly pebbles of teeth gnash against a white wall,
a silent, stubborn silhouette.
The wind cries for an end, wishing on the many stars
that the white tipped helmets of the next battalion
be turned into white flags of surrender
before the waves break.

Break. Break against the cliffs.
Break themselves in their effort. Her screams go unheard
in the battle below. Puppet master of this elemental show, the moon
sneers-silent, serene, the director, dictator of the scene.
And still the next wave of attack marches on
Just as furious, just as strong

It is in this madness
My troubles are dwarfed.
Why worry, what can I change?
Why should I wish my load to be exchanged?

When something as big and powerful as the sea
Has been stuck between the same rock and hard place
For eternity?

Author's Note

This was an idea that came to me and was quickly written up. I feel like it needs editing but I haven't come back to it in the right frame of mind to do so yet.