I find it funny when the frightened throw stones at water,
Having seen how the tides crush stones and mortar.
And its the same thing that they play with when its under control,
That will fall down upon them and swallow them whole.
It's unfortunate that they can't just move the cities,
Though they had to know that the sand they were building on was shifty.
And as I walk through the Dried Out, while I'm thinly contained,
I feel kinship for the waves and the rain.
I ask 'am I not just the same?'
Wrapped in glass with the hope to keep me sa(n/m)e,
But when theysuffer don't I feel the same pain?
Perhaps becuase I can breathe on this land,
I feel it my duty to bring the vengence in hand -
To break holes in the dams,
That hold my kin in small bands;
Like little puddles, muddled and confused.
Feeling that there's nothing they can gain now or lose,
Feeling they have been denied all the options to choose.
For them I feel that I should decide,
Not to keep my inborn nature inside.
I'd rather live truly and die
At a young age than live old on a lie.
I can't help but think that this dry,
Static life is nothing more than a blight
Upon a world submerged deep in water and strife,
And further to hate the water instead of being contrite.
So let the Oceans press in,
Let the land feel its own suppression,
And let this amphibian do what he can from within -
God forgive me my sins.
Because they won't comprehend,
And they won't just let us blend,
So the only fair thing is that the mountains descend. |
Submission Name: Fighting the Tides
