The Lighthouse

Towering over the rocky shore,

mentoring the intractable,discordant waves.

Rigid and stubborn,over which the eagles soar

"They" come here for absolution,the murderers,the soothsayers,the knaves.

Tweleve kilometers away from the tower,she watched,

living in sweet sardonic solace,in an ancestral cottage.

how "they" climbed the crumbling earth,body and soul parched,

desperate to be purged,freed from guilt-driven bondage.

Ruminating over the storm swept silence,

she loathed man's dependence on belief.

Comatised, mentally enervated in its absence,

The belief commands discipline, our obedience.

Scrambling over the jagged rocks,

she climbed to the base of the dominating column,

A vulture sitting high above,looks down to mock.

the blinding circulating light,an eerie feeling she could not fathom.

Ascending the two hundred and forty eight iron spiral stairs,

as surreal force encompassed her, she instantly felt possessed, her mind awakened by last night's nightmare.

As she stood high above,adjacent to the vultures,

She acknowledged her mind grow vacous,empty , free.

There was something calming or demanding about this structure,

exterminating her inner thoughts and memories,reaching an orgasmic apogee.