The Battle

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Life swimming up against a current pushing down.
Finally reaching the surface, the water refuses to break.
Hands push towards the surface, desperate to split the shield.
But the water does not break.
It pushes down against the palms.
The palms of the life, struggling to escape.

Fingers press up against the surface, nails scratch and swipe.
The body holding life pushes up, so close to air.
Yet still, there is no break, no remorse.
The air is limited, though it lasts a miraculous length of time.
Minutes pass. Hours, days, weeks.

Push up and up to no avail. How is there still air in these lungs?
The air seeps out ever so slowly.
The need for air becoming desperate, but the water disagrees.
Is it a pool, a lake, an ocean?
Uncertainty pushes painfully against the unyielding surface.
Depths unknown, the bottom far beyond reach by even a toe.

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