The Drowning

Boiling ocean

Thundering Seas

I ride the crest

Then drop, free fall

Into the trough.

The mountains rise

Looming above

Walls of water

Crashing on me

I cannot breathe

The pressure builds

Darkness edging

Into my eyes

My mouth opens

A silent scream

As the vortex

Is pulling me

Spinning around

The edge of life

Ever downward

Fingers reaching

But life is gone.

*his form of poem is called an octalogue, I think I have the spelling right. Each line can contain no more than four syllables to tell the story the writer is trying to convey. It's harder than it seems!