Withering Heights (by Arieta Erika)

i stand on a mountain top
looking out across the ocean
she is black bar the white caps
lapping at the foot of her.
i am frightened,
and i dont know why.

the moon is so close
that im blinded by it.
it is huge and distorted
like white smoke
she moves past me.
i marvel and reach out to touch it
and it reacts
as if revolted by my
exisitence

so i retreat behind bars
i am cold, i am tired
and as i lay my head on
the rocky summit
i am reminded of good things
happening to those who wait
and as high hopes wither
still I am hoping
that i will see
another day