Sitting at low tide amongst the creatures of the world underneath my lungs

Staring into the unbreaking blackness of the air hung in smoke

My eyes a lighthouse that gaze into the unknown reality

The world is too big for me to see it all with just one single pillar of yellow

 

Watching and waiting for the next ship to crash into me

Waiting for the next department that leaves my lightbulb cracking with the rain

Yearning for poseidon to ease my burdens

As the waves crash on my blackened feet and harden hands of acceptance

 

I mark the time of land, for voyagers to seek shelter under my care

I am the light keeper who seeks out the lost

But I myself can’t find me upon the cliff of which I stand over 

Nothing put a chasm I stare under stars from morning to daybreak

 

Some days I am the ocean, moving without direction or a motive 

Leaving sea salt tears and gifts for shore

Some days I am the ships that dock on open ports, waving goodbye to the hope and stability they once gained but release unto the sea foams tides

But I am a lighthouse, burning on an edge, alone, every night in the dark

 

Where is my love I wait out my life for at an empty dock?

 

I sit by the waters call, never leaving it without a nightlight

White eyes

White hair

White tears I shed

Yellow glares upon an empty blue

 

Not even the moon can break through with a world so deep in the trenches 

Seagulls call with a laughing tone, mocking

Envious of the freedom that they carry into both worlds I stand veil in

Tall torch-bearer sitting at low tide amongst the creatures of the world underneath my lungs

 

Where is my spark I wait out my life for at an empty cliff?