There is something so
Lonely,
And steely
In the groaning of the waves.
Their haphazard embraces
With the shore -
How gentleness is abandoned,
And so
The wind carries the violence
Into the winding tower.
And the shouting of isolation
Brings the lighthouse to tears,
Weeping in the storm,
And crying out for a form to lay
It's shining beams against.
YOU ARE READING
Remorse, Regret, and Those Things I Cannot Forget
PoetryThere are monsters inside me which I have let roam free for much too long.
