Moments of Peace against those against us
There was about a three foot rock shelf between the bottom of the rocky cliff and the tide that seemed to be slowly crawling towards the rocks. He knew he would not have long before he would be forced to succumb to this creeping menace. He glanced up at the hundreds of feet of jagged rock that he knew he had to face. Sweat began to bead on his forehead before he even made a move to start his climb. He knew he would be lucky if he survived. This was, however, his only chance of survival so up he went, like a soldier walking into a mine-field just waiting for that wrong move. He had chosen his route carefully from the ground but as he started his climb he slowly realized that his eyes had decieved him. The rocks were too sharp, the cracks too small, but it was too late, he had gone too far he could not turn back now, fore the water had already breached the cliffs feet. So on he went. About half way up he reaiized he had no palms left. He could feel his bones grate against every fist full of rock, and as he went his own blood began to cover him as he scrapped past rocks wet from the blood of his very hands. Every part of him screamed out to put an end to this unbearable madness.....