The old lighthouse stands like a lone
sentinel high on a wind swept hill.
Beckoning it’s message of hope to all
the sailors that will follow it at will.
Each sailor at sea strains to spot
that flashing light in the middle of
the stormy night.
Praying that dry land
will soon appear in
Thunder crashes, lightning flashes and
giant waves smash onto the rolling deck.
"All hands on board!! …
lash down what cargo
is left on this
storm beaten wreck!"
The old lighthouse continues to beckon,
but the storm worsens and no longer can
the beacon of hope be reckoned.
A giant wave rolls the little ship from side to side,
then flips her on her back, like a toy in a pond.
Seven men perish in the killer storm.
But the old lighthouse continues to flash …
on and on, indifferent to cries in the storm.