A Lighthouse This is an analogy I suppose. I'm not sure who the "You" is. As likely as not he's as much me as the Me is. But I suppose every two eyes that ever read this will have their own storm and their own lighthouse, so it is truly up to you. Your winds wear at my whitewashed walls Your sands ever land where your spitting rain falls Your lightning jumps from my roof to the sky Your clouds ever darken your days to your nights My scoured surface stands to surmount your every stirring My door ever shored and the wind gauge ever whirring My beacon pierces the so-called impenetrable dark My lighthouse bears your onslaught, ever shining, ever stark.
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