The haunted lighthouse [I Love to Write Poetry]

An old lighthouse that was built in times of yore,
Still stands hidden by a cliff on the rocky shore!


Legend goes, its light lured the seafarers who got lost,
Into the violent creeks, where shipwrecks occurred most!


And once the ship that hit was sure to crash and drown,
The pirates came out from hiding to loot its treasures abound.


They watched the voyagers die, helpless in the sea,
And plundered their wealth, then triumphed in cruelty.


They say the wretched souls now haunt the old lighthouse,
That's how the desolate creeks got our curiosity aroused.


We,friends on a country-trip, waited for sundown,
And marched, armed with torches, towards the windswept grounds.


The old lighthouse stood tall, a majestic white and red,
Its stairs spiralled up, to dizzying heights of a deck.


We stood atop the deck, revelling, after the steep climb,
No ghost we'd seen so far, and the wind blew in its prime.


The forsaken Fresnel lens shone guiding lights no more,
The winds whispered in the dark, "Hush! There's more in store!"


A shove from unseen hands, and to death one of us fell,
The rest ran from the haunted tower, and lived to tell the tale!