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 Wave Breaking Beneath the Pier, Folly Beach, SC
© Doug Hickok All Rights Reserved
How can it be here,
my ultimate fear?
A force to be reckoned,
Growing by the second.
Thrashing waves at the shore,
I can’t take it anymore.
My dying wish can’t be
to be consumed by the sea.
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despair
I MUST SLEEP
I’ve fallen
to the depths
of my despair.
I must rest and
replenish my spirit,
revitalize my soul.
I will stand,
climb once more,
try to resume my life.
But first, I must sleep.
FALLING
A heart-shaped pool
to break my fall.
A cold wetness
to entomb me.
Depths to reach
beneath the surface.
I am falling.
No one to catch me.
But cold wetness.
I WALK
Source:Flickr / hayakawa
Purple sprays my face.
Orange blinds my eyes.
Ice coats my toes.
Salt whips my hair.
I shut my eyes and walk.
My heels dig into the wet sand.
I move deeper into the water.
Waves attack my shivering body.
I waver for a moment.
Then I continue my journey.
I slit my eyes open.
The sky burns red.
The sun has lowered its face.
I stand in icy water in muted colors of amber.
Time to return to the shore.
Or not.
I continue to walk.
I AM LOST
Source:words-in-the-paradise
Blackness calls.
It beckons.
Fingers grab me.
Teeth rip me.
Fish surround.
Cold depths.
Laughter rains.
A cold hell.
I am lost.
I’M FREE
Floating in the dark of night
After birds have taken flight.
Out in the sea, I drift alone
Where no one else dares to roam.
Tears fall upon my face
As they increase their pace.
I am flooded with grief and despair.
I free my braid and cut chunks of hair.
I don’t need to be a beauty anymore.
He’s walked out of the proverbial door.
I am free to drift with the night or
Visit the depths of the ocean floor.
No one searches for me.
I take a step, I’m free.
IN YOUR ARMS
Take me in your arms
as your darkness surrounds me.
Bring me to the outer limits
of your hope and despair.
Delight me with your cold depths,
waiting in the wetness beyond.
DEPTHS
Stairs lead
To the depths
Of my sadness.
I can’t go on.
I must rest.
Replenish my spirit.
Revitalize my soul.
But first sleep.
BUDS OF HOPE
BUDS OF HOPE
In midst of despair and sorrow
rise buds of hope for the morrow.
Still standing upright and strong
against all that can go wrong.
These are extreme times of confusion and change,
media expanding over a broader range.
We are attacked by sounds in each direction,
leaving no time for thinking and reflection.
These flowers know what’s real,
they go by what they feel.
Away from the hustle and bustle,
they grow wild without any tussle.
A day to clear my cluttered mind is all I need,
to recharge my battery is what I should heed.
I’ll recharge in a quiet place like this,
a zest for life is what I dearly miss.
BENEATH THE CYPRESS TREE
Cypress Lawn Memorial Park | GarettPhotography
Evil waits for you and me
beneath the tall cypress tree.
It comes in the dark of night,
won’t leave without a good fright.
The mausoleum is dark.
We only came on a lark.
Time for us to run and go.
The wind says, “I don’t think so.”
THE DEAD GAME
SUSANNE LEIST 