Lighthouse in the Distance

Light and shadow, joy and pain,
Temporary is all gain;
Long the journey, short the stay,
Exits, choices, gone astray

Rain and sunshine, heat and frost,
Where we’ve been, and what we’ve lost;
Longing gently, shorting stock,
Extricated from the clock

 There’s a lighthouse in the distance,
 There’s a beacon we can’t miss;
 There is hope before tomorrow,
 There’s an end to all of this

One day, then, the legs are failing,
Too much time, and many leagues;
Free to be, but motion lacking,
For a combat sans fatigues

Oh, how gray the burden cloudy,
Oh, how close the burning tears;
Fanciful, the phantom ferry,
Fathomless the sea of fears 

 There’s a lighthouse in the distance,
 There’s a beacon we can’t miss;
 There is hope before tomorrow,
 There’s an end to all of this

 There is hope before tomorrow,
 There’s an end to all of this

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Beleaguered Servant

Owen Servant is an online poet working in a style that's been described as "compulsive". In real life, he is an actuary, because being a poet wasn't unpopular enough.

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