Cape Disappointment Poem by M.W. Ketchel

Gaping mouth
without remorse or regret
waiting without feeling
sensing
nothing
prevailing against all who
challenge.
Revenge
in the hands of man
flickers as a candle
in the storm
and yet they still try,
and will.

Poseidon rests uneasy
just under
below the screaming waves.
Souls
trapped in endless flow
relentless in the beating
like quick punches
that never stop,
until dreams shatter
like splinters
and trinkets wash up
along the beach.

Questions mean nothing
for survivors
who ask
the answers swept away
like flotsam
turned back into nothing
as the tides change.
And, still they'll ask,
demand,
beg,
as if something given back
would make it different.
It does not.