This is an analogy I suppose. I'm not sure who the "You" is. As likely as not he's as much me as the Me is. But I suppose every two eyes that ever read this will have their own storm and their own lighthouse, so it is truly up to you.
Your winds wear at my whitewashed walls
Your sands ever land where your spitting rain falls
Your lightning jumps from my roof to the sky
Your clouds ever darken your days to your nights
My scoured surface stands to surmount your every stirring
My door ever shored and the wind gauge ever whirring
My beacon pierces the so-called impenetrable dark
My lighthouse bears your onslaught, ever shining, ever stark.
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