My lighthouse

Removing my earphone just enough,
so that it's song isn't my focus,
I lay and wonder,
what is a lighhouse's prupose?

Do they mark a rocky shore hidden in gloom?
treacherous cliffs of jagged earth shredding sea,
or do they mark the end of empty darkness?
light at the end of a horizon-sky sealed tunnet,
an end to masses of waves moving, positionless,
caressing, molesting, attacking all vessel port to gunnel.

I prefer to beleive my second stated hypothesis,
otherwise I give in to thoughts of hopelessness,
give in to cynisist blackness so spotless,
the horns of a buried devil erupt under sea,
creating tidal waves of boiling fury,
propelling this craft holding my mind and me,
twards my lighthouse- end of worry.

Shafts of light to dance upon the sea,
a land-lubber I always will be,
the earth is welcoming me home,
sealed in dark cold stone,
stands my lighthouse,
straight and at attention,
stiff and full of tension,
searching upon the dark waters,
for a sign of life to call home,
to bring in before the storm,
my lighthouse.
Waits for me.