Tideland

gray foggy beach

You sought to dull my voice,
Casting my words into the blankness,
Tossed and swallowed with malice.
In your cruelty you rejoice.

No guiding star to lead me
On a path I did not choose,
I stumble, yet still refuse
This penance defiantly.

Engulfed in poisoned air
Deafened by brackish lies, blinded
By your razor-edged hatred
Scraping, ripping my spirit bare

My voice, my shield, my cutlass,
I wield with an unsteady hand
Against enemies in this tideland.
Crumbling sand castles are my only fortress.

With the stinging wind at my back,
My voice a sharp weapon, I counterattack.

The Darkroom badge
Inspiration: Gray skies
Voice
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I believe all good fiction includes an element of truth, and all good photography includes an element of fantasy. In this journal I hope to give voice to the stories swirling around in my head, and to capture the images I see through my camera’s lens.

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