The Breakwater

I
Brought to existence for a sole purpose;
To shield, to protect and to defend,
Them tiny specks called sand.

Standing valiantly in the path of crushing waves,
Permitting Them the carefree-ness They crave.
All at his expense.

He is angular, coarse, extensive, sacrificing,
Bearing brunt to Ocean’s clawing clutching.
He gives Them tomorrow.

But do They remember His needs like any other?
God needed rest, what more He;
Their mere mortal Father.

Discernible wrinkles carved deeper by torrents,
Ain’t news that that is foreign.
He is waiting.

II
As the cascading palms of destruction descended,
Cold hard realization dawned Their obtuse sense:
The solitary fort that kept this monster at bay’
Now lay as remains on the sea floor bed.
There He found not what he seek,
But many before, just like Him.
Though forsaken, He had planted,
Immense belief for whom He laboured.

He had waited,
Till He could no more.



-sHavIA
15/9/06