My fist kisses the sky
As I curse heaven
As I ask why I have been forsaken
As I burst into paroxysms of rage.
Are we not all forsaken?
Are we not all stalwart
In our insistence that we are such?
For one cannot be completely contented
For one cannot be completely complaisant
In the face of their strife.
To be forsaken is human
It is the epitome of the human condition
All of us are victim to some wanton cruelty
All of us are lost in some manner
But it is in the endless sea
Unexplored
Untampered
Unseen
That we begin to find security in the unknown
And like sea foam we become obsolete
In the face of adversity