A gentle tide crashes the jagged shore,
Smoothing out edges left by tempests past,
Yet carving out anew—along the vast
Complex coast—jagged faces, more and more.
The waves work with a deadly silent roar...
From the surface rocks protrude and cast
An evil shadow, exposing at last
A demon deep within a hardened core.
Feast, waters, feast! upon this stony land,
'Til all the ground is but fine grains of sand,
Then carry thou this devil's work to sea,
To lands beyond that which mine eyes can see;
And as old landscapes slowly fade away,
May new ones build with every passing day.
29 October 2011
