Estuary

A storm begins to brew
In a dark purple sky.
Battle is imminent,
Which none can deny.

My powerful waves thrash
With salty, swiriling might,
As your fierce freshwater fury
Is very present on site.

There is no escape
From what is to come,
'Pitted rivals' serves
As a suitable sum.

Our currents build swiftly
With equivalent force.
We both are wary of the other,
And the other's challenge we both endorse.

The sky rumbles
As we begin to clash.
Your waves and mine
Mightily begin to crash.

We meet in the middle with
Unsurmountable rage,
Two destined foes fit
For this perfect stage.

My waves are big,
And current strong.
I have the edge,
You've sung your song.

But to my unpleasant suprise
You seem to match my threat.
The salt of my self seeps
Into you and I begin to fret.

To each other
We are equal.
It seems now there
Will be no sequel.

For the sky begins to clear,
Turning a pretty shade of blue,
Neither gains ground,
No matter what we choose to do.

The sea is calm
On each side.
Something new forms
After you and I collide.

This new liquid is neither
Wholy I, nor wholy you,
But a mixture of us both
That nature herself did brew.

All spite is gone,
All hatred dispersed.
We have seen it through,
Past the very worst.

You and I are
One in the same,
And to this scene
We both stake claim.

Not submission, but compromise.
Not dissent, but respect.
No regret, but satisfaction.

The water is flat,
Opinions don't vary.
We rest in peace in
Our mutual estuary.