BEacon of light


There is a mist.
I can’t see.
All is blurry.
But yet,
I can see you.
You stand before me.

You are my beacon.
My hope.
Wait for me,
my love.
I will walk to you.
I can see nothing but you.

Be my beacon.
My hope.
My light.
In the darkest of nights.
Wait for me,
my love.

I’m here.
I’ve reached you.
But you’re gone.
A mist blurs the light.
I can’t see anything.
You’ve left me.

I never had you.
You were my one hope.
My last chance.
You never waited.
You never cared.
Time for me to give up.

I bow my head.
I’ve given up.
I will no longer reach
For what I can’t have.
I will no longer have hope.
The world goes dark around me.



Bela Lugosi recites some Poe in The Raven (1935).

The raven sits quietly while Lugosi reads the lines.

It sits as still as a lifeless statue.

But what if it isn’t lifeless?

What if it’s just waiting?

Waiting for the actor

to stop droning on.

For the room to become quiet

so that he could pounce on him.

The way he was supposed to

in The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe.

He must perform for his namesake.

The world could use one less actor.

Couldn’t it?