The Pharos at Alexandria

Lighthouse,

helping sailors on their way.

Across the darkened sky you

shine, revealing those underwater

dangers.

Stars and moons seem dull,

in comparison to  your

 

Fire.

Ironic that a beacon, an aid,

should stand on a barren, rocky

shore. Would I have trembled to

drop anchor there, despite my wondering

awe? I may be no sailor but

you I can

 

Admire.

Below you stretches the

Hepstadion causeway, that line

between your island and Alexandria

to stop you floating away.

Away. Time runs from you

and your flames have subsided:

 

No more are you, great dazzling Pharos.

 

The End

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