Man pulls up a chair as the waves of rain begin to crash,
Sending all to the brink of use towards the edge in a flash.
Disguising the chaos with a sign of peace the eye rolls in,
Casting an ounce of holiness upon a vortex of sin.
The man struggles to accept even as the next wave approaches,
Wind swirling all around with no regard for his broaches.
Even as he struggles to survive his faith keeps him new,
Beaten and Battered physically yes but nothing time can't undo