Function of Solitude

a weathered lighthouse, alone
looking at a stormy sea
my light a beacon, not that draws
but rather drives away
if you get too close
Shipwreck

from afar you can never know the hollow warmth inside

wave crests crash unceasing at my immobile feet
I’ve been alone on this rock
so long
the salt air has petrified my heart

Published by Aly Writes

I bake. I write. What goes better together than a good story and a delicious fresh-baked pastry? Nothing. And I can give you both. Grab a hot cuppa and join me.

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