And Still The Sea Beckons

And still the sea beckoned washings it’s salty brine over my feet trapping them for good I would be the lighthouse the beacon in the night the light guiding shipwrecks to their watery graves below And still the sea beckoned grabbing me by the ankles sucking me in its slimy pull as I lay throbbing in fear I would be the lighthouse where the seagulls made their home nesting in the port hole watching for lost souls And still the sea beckoned wading out till the safety of the shore drops leading me to blue abyss I am the lighthouse the wife waiting for the fisherman hoping his empty boat won’t wash ashore for if it did i’d hear the beckon and answer it’s call to swallow the tide