The Storm
I plead for the rain to stop
or at least lighten.
I attempt to placate the thunder
or persuade it to not yell.
I pray that the lightning will not strike us
or my precious vessel.
But the storm will not be
stopped
placated
or distracted from its target,
its purpose:
sacrifice.
Commanding this stretch of sea,
the storm demands a toll for passage.
I thought I was prepared to pay,
but the sacrifice I am willing to make
is not the sacrifice it wants.
If we are to live,
one must remain
and submit to the waters above and below.
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