Line Squall
The weather is angry to the southMy track takes me there
The front is much too large
To avoid its fury
Too fast to run from
There is stillness here now
An anxious anticipation of
The battle to come
This small vessel against
Forces of strength
Beyond calculation
The lesson and practice
Is simple
Yield and find the cloaked
And hidden passages present
this is no place for
Hollow boisterous shouts
The black battlements ahead I see
In a green and tattered distance
The exercise is survival not exaltation
Humility is the sword and armour
Not bravado and devil may care
The vaulted halls are built of
Power enough to crush yet appear
As simple blackened vapour
Ugly veins of ghostly blue white
Lightning writhe within these horrid
Undulating halls
That roars at timed intervals
Distance dependent
I brace and set my flimsy defences
l buck and weave against this primal force
Knowing that it holds my fate
I can merely keep alive from
Vicious minute to infinity
What seems as days are
Truly tension torn minutes
That march ponderously past
As wave upon wave of rain and sea
Wind and lightening roar
Gnash their teeth and snap at
The integrity of the vessel
The sea dark as Dante's styx
Hellish as a mad Dali scene
We move
It over us and we through it
Sail a mere scrap to keep us
From a unrecoverable deadly broach
The noise deafening reducing
Language to primal grunts
And then a subtle change
The ferocity softens a whisker
The rain less torrential
The winds less deathly
And light is seen through
The gothic walls
Windows of gold appear
In the leaden halls ahead
And then
The sun
Poetry by josephus
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Written on 2016-03-10 at 02:14
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