II. A Light So Dim

I am the spirit

Of the lonely lighthouse,

And you are the daughter

Of the sea and the storm.

The dead souls will travel

Up the course of your spine

To reach the light

Inside your eyes.

The western wind shrieks

As you draw breath,

And I am the light

Which flickers in your presence.

A light so dim

In the dead of night.

When the sea is bitter,

And you are awake.

The light is all we have.

Don't reap the time.

Leave the shore

To lie in its shame.

Death in the shallow water,

Screams flutter from below,

And I hear them.

And I'll see the ship

On the wake of the horizon,

With the crew of bones

In putrid diligence,

Traversing towards the house of light.

And I'll leave the light on

In your soul

To weep for the loss

of the storm.

Merchants sit in pairs

Along the rows

Of plank and stone,

With steel between their teeth

And distaste inside their throat.

They will sleep tonight

With the breeze wrapped

Around their chins.

And you, daughter of

The pouring rain and ice,

Will you whisper as they dive

Into that silent abyss?

The light which resides

In the core of my harbor

Will flicker and flail

Under your careful eye.

Time is all we have.

This memory of a

Light so dim and

A little maiden from the storm.