a grey tide

pablo the nihilista

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A grey tide is moving on in
and there ain’t nothing you can do;
nowhere you can hide.
It’s just rolling on in.

All those plans, latent desires,
memories that linger… they’re going to be
washed away like the top layer of sand
on some lonely coast.

A grey tide is moving on in,
those screams, those shouts,
all that is held before you
will be swept away
like a dream
in the rustling of a headwind.

A grey tide is moving on in,
you turn to look away from its oncoming
to find that it is rolling in on every horizon,
like those moments of pain that creep
back up at those silent pauses;
those times your hurt,
the times you caused pain;
they’ll all be washed away as well
at the closing of the dawn.

The force of it is magnificent
yet peaceful.
A grey tide moving on in.

She moves her right foot nervously
to the side
as she tries to find
the right words to hold it all together…
poignant, vulnerable and so perfect
in her naivety;
that grey tide is moving on in.

There’s a grey tide coming down
on your goddamned white
picket fence.
Eat it… there’s no salvation.