Current

 

Sway and sigh.
Never die.
Pull unending,
still descending.
Buckle and crash.
Spill and splash.
Drift and conform
and still the storm.
Wish I could flee
and stop the sea,
but never will it end.
Swish and bend.
Pull and fight.
Stormy night.
Growl and hate.
Bitter fate.
Dark and deep.
Eyes that weep
cannot see
my silent plea.
I need air.
A silent prayer.
I cannot change,
nor rearrange,
the strange drift.
It's an odd gift.
True friend
to the very end.
The current tide
is where I can hide.
Drift of life
is an uneasy strife,
but dependable all the same.
Yet never will it tame.
Current drift,
restless shift.

 

Author's Note

This poem is almost 4 years old. I don't plan on changing it any. Just want an honest opinion.