Calling on Muurn Lighthouse

By: Gnaash Posted on: June 14, 2007

Blue lake water, icy cold,
Fed by mountain snows,
Surrounding rocky island where
Gnaash decide should go
To see the lighthouse drenched in fog
That shine a warning beam
Over Muurn Lake water deep,
The tower wreathed in steam.
Gnaash hesitate by Pantheon
When some body beckon close
To give to Gnaash some sage advice
Before to island goes.
Biagio, a shady man
Who work at graveyard shift,
Was lean upon big shovel while
Nostalgia slowly drift
Across his dirty face, so wan,
So pale and thin.
The man recount the awful day
The scrags came tunnel in.
"Once, I watched the lighthouse flame,"
Say Biagio with sneer.
The eerie light in pale green eyes
Reveal the old man fear.
"But now that basement's full of things
I'd rather not recall.
They're ferocious, mean, and reeking,
and only about this tall."
Biagio tell Gnaash the tale
About the infestation,
And how the scrag look lumbering.
Even gave a demonstration.
Scrag be squat and bulbous,
Limp black hair and greenish skin.
But other fact make Gnaash think twice
Before go barging in:
Scrag have a gaseous aura,
Visiting noses be aware!
From foul gland come a noxious smell
That clings to clothes and hair.
"You'll smell before you see 'em."
Was the way Biagio explain.
But that what people say of troll,
So Gnaash no could complain.
At the bottom of the ladder
Gnaash was greet with nice surprise.
Some body leave a giant feast!
Gnaash no could believe eyes.
Pickled fish and side of pork
Box and barrel stack four high,
Had to wrestle dumpy scrag
For a heel of marbled rye.
Now Biagio no more will be
The tender of Muurn Light.
But Gnaash think be some body still
Who climb the wooden flight
Of stairs that wind up to the top,
Because that flame still burn.
And to that person Gnaash doff hat;
Those wages be hard earned!
To Muurn Island Gnaash still go
But visits be discrete.
For scrag or no, the rooftop view
Is be a pleasant treat.