Thursday, February 13, 2025

The lighthouse

 

Everything is meaningless

without loving and being loved,

After all, we are mere fishes

lost in the sea’s vast expanses,

We are scared of getting lost

in the looming prospects of freedom

swarming its massive gloomy depths,

So we’re running around

to be gaffed by the spear of love;

to be netted in love.

 

Aha, the sweet anarchy of love!

Love fragile like porcelain,

but still a beacon of hope,

a lighthouse on a rocky, stormy shore,

Spreading its guiding light among choppy waters,

Fighting the muscles and tissues of darkness.

 

Love with its ephemeral intensity

sizzles across the folds of eternal apathy,

It shimmers like a lighted powdery

splash of disarming mystery,--

a sparkling kiss of life

on the embracing gentleness of death.

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