Caught up and choked by fear of the tide
Moving ever closer and closer,
Pulling her in even as she pushes blindly away
While she spins desperately to unheard melodies.
Bright shells and sea-foam entice her
As she scatters her rough hewn verses on hot sand
Before spinning wildly away again,
As the sea pulls with hungry fingers
At the tattered garment of girlhood she wears.
Her hair and dress are long since corroded by the salt-spray
Of the sea she cannot escape,
As she flies and falls along the shore, just out of reach–
Not wanting to hold on and not able to let go,
That crazy girl makes her triumphant stand on the shore
As the sea looks uncaring on,
Knowing one way or another, it will lay claim to her spent form.