Gray is the stone of the cliffs
That rise from sands black
Shining grains of obsidian
Polished by the tides,
Grim and imposing cliffs loom
Casting shadows upon the shore
A veil of dark over a beach of black
And the dark waves that crash there on,
Proud the cliffs stand tall
Against the railing wind
Strength born of the ocean’s wide fetch
They deflect screaming toward the sky,
Craggy, scarred, and stalwart cliffs
Battered by the ocean’s might
Pummeled by the wind’s fury
Worn by aged time.
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