Somewhere out beyond the phantom swells of the undulate breakers, past the silver studded raindrops which elegantly charm the ocean breeze.
The raging billows effortlessly plundering the feeble windswept lighthouse, alike Zeus unleashing a never-ending lightning wrath into the depths of the sea with unimaginable catastrophic consequences.
The earth-shattering waves desperately clasp onto the slippery shoreline as the tidal rush escapes from within its clasp.
Hell hath no fury like an ocean scorned.
The short muddy path leading throughout the numerous orchards to the lighthouse
The Lighthouse of Elivara Isle had always been a quiet cove if it had not been for the torrential stormy swells that kept pounding the inlet.
Olde blue paint streamlined around the pedestal of the weathered tower, white paint chips underneath often outlined the prior colour at the base. Unadorned white steps with an imprinted intricate floral dull copper railing spirally clinching to the tower’s keep. Elaborate ivy curled around the exquisite dull copper banister as it crept onwards.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem