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In Search of Some Relief
Thunder cracks.
Lightning strikes overhead.
A large white hand,
Seizing the night sky.
Rain cascades down upon the relentless ocean.
A tiny black figure surfaces,
Thrashes in the surf.
So small,
It clings to a leaf,
Its only shelter from the hungry waves.
An ant,
Panting and struggling to hang on,
Pulls itself onto its newly found raft.
The thunder overhead is deafening,
Drowning the ant is a sea of noise,
Rather than the hungry waves below.
Assaulted from all sides,
The ant curls itself up and cowers on the leaf to hide,
In an attempt to escape the sound all around.
The waves crash.
The leaf capsizes.
The little ant is flung off.
It sinks below the surface,
Gazing above at the world it has left.
The noise fades.
The screaming of thunder in its little head ceases.
The ant fades to black as it sinks,
Deeper and deeper.
Aren’t we all ants, looking for some sort of relief?
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Whenever I hear is, I see a storm tossed ocean at night, with a group of people (or in this case, just one animal) struggling to avoid going under, trying to hang on.
Searching form some relief.