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Storm-Breaker

Storm-Breaker sits

amidst changing lands

Cold gray hands

of Sea-wind and sands

Pass through his hair

and Tear over his fair

Dense, stoic face

In changing Landscape

he remains in place

Mountains fall around him

and dungeons of icy water

seal Shut,

never to be reopened

lost in

Swimming emotions and

the gray of the Ocean’s

perpetual motion

The Storm-Breaker sits

Atop foam-crested throne

He goes alone

in His Ocean home

To meet with Fate

Titanic

Atlantic

hills

rolls, crests, spills

and his head fills

with the notion

that within this Ocean

there is no Law

and there is no God

But the waves and the wind

and he thinks with a grin,

This

is my

Kingdom.

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About marcofreschi

I live in the Ocean and write poetry View all posts by marcofreschi

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