Light of the darkness,
pray you, rest.
For I have seen you do your best
all through those chilled moony hours,
out above that irking blue.
Your graveyard shift is finally through
would you drift?
Overseer of the sea,
you are lone but vital.
Now my rising dulls your strength
but trust until I lay again
That I’m relieving you.
There’s little more that you can do,
now that I insist.
So give in. Dim. And then some more.
You’ll come alive to evening’s shore,
the stars all shining back.
The night was made for dazzlers,
the day, for those who better slept.
So little beacon, calm your sway.
Surrender to the light of day
for no more pitch black must you face —not for now at least.
Stay nestled in that refuge spot,
grounded on that cliffy plot
where from all lands they’ll stop to see,
thanks to this place,
there’ll never be
a world shrouded entirely
in apathetic dark.