No one said it was going to be easy.
The waves come crashing,
and then they crash again.
There will be times
when the surf is peaceful and calm;
and then in a moment,
turn into a crashing tsunami
whose very force will shatter bone
and crush hearts.
The morning is only temporary refuge
for the night is soon to follow.
Darkness always gets a turn
and it consumes all
in its cold and hungry embrace.
There is no sanctuary here;
not while you are breathing,
not while you are awake.
This is life’s blessing and curse —
the rhythm of the waves crashing
and the cold and silent creeping of the night —
constant and cyclical,
receding and returning,
more savage on its every return.
Steel yourself. It does not end
when you’ve had enough.
It ends when it had had enough of you.