The Tower and the Sea

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I'm on the island again.
A tower high in the clouds.
I fly there often, day after day,
When the tide gets too rough to bear.

It's calm and I feel the sun,
The water clear and welcoming.
I'm carried softly along the surface,
As the wind sings lovingly.

How fickle it can be at times.
To promise me the stars of night
And disappear when the black comes,
To be circled by beasts of blood.

Promises of the wind are often given.
Yet who is at fault for this?
I know the wind, I love the wind.
Why do I still believe the wind?

I am fooled by the song again,
Sincerity dripping from its hurtful sting.
I endure the pain for the love I bear,
But absence cannot be substitute.

I am lost in the still night, the waves raging,
Red-eyed monsters' lustful gazes hidden
But felt.

I retreat to the lighthouse my Father built
And I add to it each time I visit.
The far grey floor less threatening than before.

Mermaids live here.
Fairies, animals, friends all.
Pearl walls circle my mind
And I am lost again, yet perilously in safety.

I hate the sea but I need it too.
Water naught but hateful breathing fire.
Sometimes the sight alone is enough,
Enough to warrant levels still higher.


Father stay with me please.
I beg for this great comfort.
If you will not tame the sea for me,
Kill the fear it fills me with.

I miss the wind already
And it's only just stopped to sing.
Remind me the wind is not my life,
But rather the Sun eclipsing.

Hearts may be hardened to resist
The hurtful promises of the breeze.
But at this unfortunate choice in time
There is no longer a reason to leave.

Resist, resist the urge to kill the glass,
To fling pieces from the window so high.
A breeze strong and firm may one day arrive
To take you to a better home far away

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