My senses are filled with the cool biting kiss of the oceans sea salt mist.
The rock upon which I have taken my stand holds true to its word,
I will support you.
Planted, my feet hold firm to the rocks rigid face.
The wind comes piercing through my skin with its granular knives .
I begin to bleed out the suffering of my past.
Now the gusting ocean air has stayed true to its word,
I will cleanse you.
My eyes open to a light beam as it passes my face.
Circling clockwise it searches for those who have become lost.
I inch forward, lurching with each step as I am pulled from the cliff.
The light house calls me and has stayed true to its word,
I will guide you.
I plunge into the ice cold water and it wraps around my soul.
Struggling to breathe my lungs begin to cave in.
Arms weak, they barely emerge from the oceans surface.
Fighting the battle I thank the sea for staying true to its word,
I will transform you.
I lift my self out from the icy tomb, only just escaping my own death.
To find you standing at the door to the lighthouse.
Drenched in salt water and bleeding through my pores,
I have not enough strength to stand on my own.
You grab me and hold me and have stayed true to your word,
I will catch you.
