I am a lighthouse who's light has burned out, I have become dark and my brightness no longer shines over the lapping waves, I am beaten, barren, and barraged from the ocean air, my foundation is chipped my paint is stripped and I am broken.
I used to shine bright but the light has faded, it has vanished along with the hope I had to save those I care for, who no longer care for me, and as the ships sail in they are tattered on the rocks, as the wood splinters and the sailors are thrown to their death, and as they churn among the waves and foam, I remain silent and broken.
Their screams are slowly muffled into quite moans of pain, as the salt water fills their lungs and their tears melt into Poseidon's hand, his grip tightens around their throats and their breath escapes them, his laugh overtakes them in the depths of the sea, their voices begins to fade, until it is the whisper of the dead on the cold wind as it beats against my damaged body, and still is the night and I am broken.
I am a lighthouse with no keeper to tend to me, I remain a statuesque figure of a golden time, so bright, so vibrant, so full of joy, but now I decay on the shore overlooking the sea that I loved but that now has only brought me death, and I am the cause of this pain, the souls I have damned haunt my every memory and yet I stand tall, the hollow shell of what I used to be, the savior of men, the rescuer from the shore, a beacon of hope, a light in the darkness...but now there is only darkness and here I stand in it, chipped, stripped, hollow, damaged, and mostly broken.
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