Onslaught
By Mara1121

Crashing waves assail my spirit
No time to come up for air
Before the next one finds and downs me
No breath to offer up a prayer

Trapped within relentless tide
Pulled underneath it by the surge
Water siren's voiceless echo 
a reverberating silent dirge

Sinking low in liquid shadows
Too deep for sun to pierce with light
I grapple with uncertain choice
Do I drown, or rise and fight?

Searching for a surer foothold
on bottom's wet and shifting sand
I grip the edge and pull me over,
find firm ground on which to stand.

Bruised and battered by the onslaught,
Frail and weary from the fray
Shafting light begins to dry me
Lends me strength to look for day.

Heal me with words of mercy
Spread them like a soothing balm
Hold me spellbound while they bathe
my soul into a sense of calm.

Copyright 2000 by Mara Broadaway
All Rights Reserved