Came on to me a raging sea
in the maelstroms of anger.
Her blustery coils bedamn the spoils
and keep the boats at anchor.
Her waves a fright of ruthless might,
what goads this seething rancour?
This cursed land on where I stand,
what gods, pray tell, command her?
No fiercer storm, I’ve ever worn,
bedevilling my bearings.
My ancient stance in a moment’s chance
near robbed me of my earnings.
But held my ground, leaned fore to sound
my worries to their warnings.
I fought the cries of scathing skies
colliding with my yearnings.
That dreaded gale when seas prevail,
the deluge of damnation.
I paused in awe at what I saw,
the ocean’s congregation.
The charging ranks in thundering angst,
engulfed my hesitation.
To then recede, exposed my breed,
beheld my reputation.
It\'s cold to feel when truths reveal
the sins of all my dealings.
When shameful truths with guilt cahoots
and flouts a sinner’s pleadings.
To bear the brash where I now clash
with the innards of my feelings.
To lick the salts from my own faults
and taste my angered greetings.
What findings borne of sea and storm
will punish with good reason.
No quarter spared, no charges shared,
for mercy has no season.
To bear the guilt of lies and filth,
a life of spouting poison.
What’s done is done, what I’ve become,
the shame of my horizon.
My crimes behold, the vows I sold
when faith and soul were fighting.
The tempest howls from fierce her bowels
with pikes of raging lighting.
From far-flung lands to beaten sands
her chisels pound in writing.
I heard the poem, I’ve never known,
the ocean’s wrath reciting.
My naked flaws in brutal claws
I prayed for calm to hold me.
From fathoms deep my secrets weep
the frozen spheres to scold me.
The honest calls in wailing squalls
who is it that controls me?
And lapsing to, to watch undo
the only one to know me.
Succumbed to thee my sacred sea;
forgive me with your being.
Oh, ease your rage at my new age
with hope in now believing.
Sought no reprieve or to deceive
whatever I was seeking.
The blessed words of ocean birds
as if it’s me who’s speaking.
The oceans pose a heavy prose
from the depths of her dark author.
The son to birth, his sward of earth
will find his coast thereafter.
My sins when known, I tramped to home
to penance from disaster.
Forgiveness sought, I know, I ought,
the me that I must master.