After months of swaying to relentless swells and hollows, After too many near capsizes and failed missions, After dodging one last storm, I am returning. My homeland greets me with glorious hues of lavender and amber and my heart sobs with fevered glee as I near my port. The inlet is busy, so I must negotiate for a dock. Sails furled and ship tied, I gather my belongings and call to the nearest coach During my ride, my thoughts turn to my wife and I start to weep. I have been too long at sea. She should not have to recieve my emptiness. Arriving, my chest pumps to break free. This beacon, my beacon of hope, more powerful than a thousand lighthouses, has returned me yet again, safe. On folded knees I offer silent thanks. I now realize that I am the tortured and the torturer.