The old man sitting in the tower gazes out at the sea.
The waters are placid, blanketed by dense fog.
The old man stares into the dark night remembering his lost love.
The beam of light in the tower shines upon the sea, glistening in the dark water,
Warning a weary traveler of the murderous rocks.
The old man guards the light so if it should ever fail he could replace it swiftly so no one would be left blind.
He stays up there all day, ever single day.
He's been up there ever since the day he had lost his love.
Through the darkness a ship sails on the glassy water a ghost in the fog.
The beam of light shines upon the sailing vessel, revealing rotted boards and a tattered mast.
And it was then that the man realized it carried no captain or crew.
Only a single person stood at the prow .
It was a beautiful young woman wearing a dress of milk white.
Her long raven hair spilled down her shoulders, framing her flawless face.
She raised her head to the tower and watched the old man with large, amber eyes.
Slowly she bowed her head and when she lifted it, she brought a hand up to her lips and blew the old man a kiss.
The old man's eyes widened when he saw this fair young maiden.
He's seen her somewhere before, but where, he was not sure.
She was like a distant memory, the ghost of a dream.
Before the ship faded into the night he caught sight of the name.
The Islander glowed brightly with the color of flame.
The old man's heart skipped a beat when he realized what it was.
It was the ghost of the ship that had carried his lost love.