Sitting there in that lighthouse,
trying to fall asleep was he.
His duty time was over and,
now was the time to sleep,
to go on...
But still the fear of fire
torments him,
day and night.
He doesn't dream,
but lives through each nightmare.
The love of his loved ones, faraway,
sheltered from the noisy waves of the sea,
from the salt laden breeze.
His proffession,
had the pleasures,
of being close to the sea;
the pains of separation;and
the nasty accusations of the cruel waters.
But alas he was a poor man.
His bowl of soup was his job.
His wife is ill,
with money and her cure,
he stood atop the intimidating lighthouse.
His children cannot but lick their lips,
at the sight of a sumptous banquet, their ultimate fantasy.
As the evening of his life draws closer,
what can he do, than fall asleep,
when his heart beats no more.