THE LIGHTHOUSE

A journey starts and the die is casted

ingenious and indigenous to our past

Casting shadows over station shoals

cries of seamen when it’s light unfolds

Outwardly bound let the fishing begin

the nets filling fast it looks like a win

Gusty drizzle in cloudy freezing wind

a electrifying cyclone is on it’s way in

Thunder streaking across bleak sky’s

men hurry for home in this people die

A gale slams this sturdy fishing trawler

worry eyes! can’t make it much farther

Violent seas erupting over vital railings

she has a fighting heart but she’s failing

Battering! the sea as it ferociously feeds

the crew is defiant! but still they bleed

Blood curling screams! of man overboard

scrambling needlessly friends are no more

The seas lurch! It’s not for the faint of heart

a shipwreck diligently kill while it’s dark

Disdainful recognition of this watery grave

the sea claims her dead, intensely depraved

The useless electronics compass on the sway

a beaten up sixty footer, is death on it’s way?

Broken! docile men now waiting to go under

this limping trawler awaits the seas plunder

Then a gigantic flash! It’s the lighthouse beam

saying this is the way home I stand supreme.