McCaig's Tower
Magnetic sea,
It is not your power that compels
But your reluctance to farrow
And relinquish identity.
Brazen, I brave the squalls
Lashing commitments to repeat
And thrashing, grey iced granite,
McCaig’s Tower and all.
These crystalline walls submit
The hardy brine-weathered flesh
And, glistening, call a silver goad
To slither for the summit.
Lone and eroding;
How coldly time abandons awe
Once estranging life essential
To action the required fall.
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