The Lighthouse Keeper's Death
(a Rondeau form poem)
Within this house of light, I sleep
While in the shadows, silent figures creep
Upon my chair-around me they befall.
As my snores echo throughout the hall,
Their blackness veils me in a heap.
In my dream, I feel their touch-so deep.
Through hollowed skin, I feel my spirit seep-
My soul is siphoned to the
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