The Man On The Lighthouse

He stood on the lighthouse, all through the night,
Looking out into the sea, into the rolling waves,
Waiting, for something, for someone, he wanted to meet,
Someone who he was sure would appear anytime soon.

For the last few years, the lighthouse had become his home,
He no longer wanted to walk in the city,
The city had changed, but not he, and all that he knew
And held close to his heart had disappeared.

And so he had retreated, to the desolate lighthouse
That stood in the middle of the sea, with its water-washed walls
Through the months and years, the lighthouse had become
A part of him and he, a part of it.

For they both lay in wait, to fulfill their life’s purpose.
The lighthouse, for a ship to cross its feet and he,
For his mermaid to rise out of the waters,
And walk with him to his world.

He knew that the ship would never come,
It had never done in the past and never would,
The lighthouse knew that the mermaid wasn’t coming
She was well ensconced in the depths of the ocean.

But they remained brothers in waiting,
They had nobody but each other for company,
What they waited for, the rest of the world cared not,
What happened in the outer world, they cared nought for.

He stood with his hands on the rails, and eyes red with waiting,
Expecting his mermaid to turn up any moment,
For her to rise above the waters and meet him,
For them to walk together into his world.

He had spent many a happy moment with her,
A long vacation plan they had spoken about,
Visiting the white sandy beaches that lay not far
From the very lighthouse that he now was standing on

They had wanted to dance on the shores,
To swim together in the blue lagoons,
To build their own little hut near the waves
All not far from where he stood today.

She had left him, forever, but he did not know that
He looked over the frothy waves, for any hint
For a glimpse of his beautiful mermaid,
To see her rising above the waters.

This was where he had last seen her,
Walk hand in hand with her dad,
The king of the seas, had taken her
To his palace under the waves,

But she had turned around, at the last minute,
And promised to be back, for him,
And to take him with her, forever,
Now, he waited, for her to come.

He waits there to this day, now aged and wrinkled,
His skin shows cracks that rival a crater-hole,
His eye can’t see his own toe,
But still he waits for her.

He no longer hears the roar of the waves,
The sun and the moon have failed to amuse him,
The very lighthouse on which he stands is in ruins,
But still he waits for her.