High Tides

With the tidings of perusal, I clamor to the seeping waves. Wage the tremors towards a wall change as the water grows tall. Blinded underneath the rise by what to expect-clearly. A complete and utter demise. Flooded. Over-flooder if that's a thing. I flail my limbs for a glimpse of resistance to find rust forgotten and forbidden to trust. Light comes through as my eyelids close. When they rise I stand back at the shore cleansed and awaiting the next eclipse.