Chela

Crushing mountains of water Slam down hard on the sand As the storm rages violently Holding the world in its hand Two small crabs cling together tightly In a desperate attempt to survive Having been through so much already The hope is to come out alive In the midst of the tempest All the promises along the way Are brought to mind, not knowing If they will make it through the day Lives pass as rapid fire images Of a time come and gone For what it is worth, all That they did was it really wrong As the storm thunders on and on And the weak grasp of the little crabs sore Does one let go now to fend for itself Or hold on tight and swim for shore