A man stood upon the precipice of a great mountain overlooking the sea

for he had earned the right to view beneath him

the ocean and the world, bowing at his feet

but he had grown old on his journey

and he was frailer than the mountain's stone

he was weaker than the sea

he had conquered but he was lost

for the ocean had risen up to take him

afraid, he looked to the sun for deliverance

he prayed to the sky for grace

but no words could stop the rising tide

no false prophets could save him from his age

he cried out in protestation

and wept bitter tears of grief

he damned the ocean, his mother, and his God

but the tide still rose

his mother had long since passed on into nothing

and God had forgotten

the salt stung as it touched him

it charred his flesh to ash

and as the water consumed him

he let out one final plea

but his voice was lost against the sound of the ocean

and the breaking of the waves.