Lazarus

Her stare is a scent tied to memory. Hanging long as a searchlight out to sea. Here where Times only purpose Is to punish in fluid translation, mocking with it's lap of tongue across the beach. She breathes in Her re-treasured re-collections -She fills Herself with the Hope- She must find the courage to reach. But fingertips erode fixture. In the sill, grooved to place, memory foams security brace. Her soul shackle-ready for flogging. Her silhouette in fade, replaced by panes fogging. Circled by wraiths. As She shakes from Loves Palsy. Numbness ebbs and flows like a Tide creeping in. Tears irrigating Her face to punish love as sin. In Her lonely garden that grows In the absence of caretaker, wild into the forests of delusion. But just then as the fade turned it's black from her bones the Lighthouse beacon flickered, then shone, Eyes open- to life brought back. Back from it's tomb of empty night. The light it forlorned, Like Archangel rising from Her Throne. Stands up to tolerate Her state No More! No more. No more Piracy flying it's black masts along Loves Shores! He was there! In a pathetic looking dingy, so beautiful and worn. It Was-clear ahead of the Ship, barely touching the water, as She bit down on Her lip- running to forgive the ocean and accept it's Eternal apology gift. Of the Reborn.