The lighthouse sits upon the desolate island shore
Slowly dilapidating as its pieces fall to the ocean floor
Seagulls and ospreys have made it their coastal home
As it sits unsafe in a place most would never dare to roam
Once it’s nighttime its prism lights are rumored to turn on
Even though the original light bulbs are all broken and gone
Sometimes the lights can be seen at the hotel across the bay
Many guests have reported seeing it light up the open seaway
There is a legend that the lighthouse is cursed and a haunted place
Those who have ventured to visit have disappeared without a trace
Many say that on quiet nights when the moon is full and bright
A young widow can be seen pacing and crying in the lighthouse at night
It is rumored that a young bride is waiting for the return of his ship
That was lost at sea with its captain, who never returned from his trip
There are nights when the wind may carry her sounds of despair
The haunted lighthouse remains a mystery and many fear to go there
“Can you feel the soul of an abandoned house, can you hear the whispering.”
Quote by _ Constance La France
Weary walls & dilapidating roof,
Hope stands aloof,
Pleasant days are gone,
The ambience is worn.
The hands are unable,
The clime is unstable,
Gloom dwells in the chamber,
Too weighty for a serene slumber.
A sojourn on feeble bridges,
A path rife with ridges,
The soul desires quantum solace,
Freedom from a burdened race.
The whispering of a troubled soul,
Stifled by a torn whole,
Echoes of cold silence,
The disparaging tides are in sequence.
May 29, 2023.
Writing Challenge - C Quotes - Poetry Contest,
Constance La France.
There is a forgotten cabin
that stands by the sea,
Old and dilapidating,
Its former years I still remember,
Happiness dwelt within its walls,
Joyful tunes emanated from its enclosure,
A summer home,
A vacation abode,
Its walls glittered under the sun’s rays,
Abandoned and deserted,
It stands alone and grey,
No more pleasure to them,
They had gone and never came back,
It stands in a forlorn hope.
May 11, 2022.
The Unforetold Truth
The Truce unclaimed is yearning
The Halo surrounded is hatful
The treasure unfound is slothful
The ink unused is fading
The forces unchallenged are daring
The stakes untaken are dilapidating
The cross unbeard is rightful
The characteristics unfeatured are deriding
The Chances non-formed are regretful
What do all these culminate to produce?
The Unforetold Truth
The knowledge present in everyday felicitations and adventures reborn
The Unforetold truce present in the lie conquered and disseminated
Where there is strength in bold and overridden fear
With success in the wind.
I have stopped dreaming about the dilapidating person,
And began to open the vital eyes of the forlorn reality,
Yet, if you observe the time’s dimension in milliseconds
Then you would realise the existence of dark shadows,
Lurking to fish ancient chaste villages for Today’s Special*,
Headlines switching from the wasteland to the desert,
As if a show screening for the mindless masses of meat**,
No sense of life!
And copious shadows still hunt puppets out of souls.
I have stopped dreaming about the pristine person
As I observed the wilderness in the city of Deer AlZoor,
Smiles did flourish in the small villages along the river,
Until the putrid puppets placed their powerful*** hands
On the soon-to-disappear persons of joy and glory,
The puppet’s contaminated minds removing all hope,
A move towards ethnic cleansing was just the start,
No sense of life!
And the shadows plan on barricading the city of Dar’a.
Sunday, 28th of September 2014
* metaphor for trying to find new ways to kill people
** consonance alliteration 'm' and meat is a metaphor for persons
*** consonance alliteration 'p'
and there are many more :P
Find me in California, or in Spain
With olive trees growing along my lane
I'll live in an olive house of green
With my spouse that's sweet-not mean
Olives I'll eat three times a day
The ones I drop will be marbles for play
All the clothes I wear will be an olive print
With a black, or a green colored tint
Pimentos compliment olives very well
And are often stuffed in olives for sell
I always bypass the bread and the meat
I'm always looking for olives to eat
My spouse can attest to my constant craving
Now, the cause of our relationship dilapidating
I'm afraid I'll have to give back a special crafted ring;
An olive, with pimento for stuffing, as bling
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