We Are Changing in the Sun Rise

it came in the morning, but the sun did not rise and the light did not illuminate our faces. the water did not flood the room and the lack of windows disappeared the rest of the world. enclosed, infinite, given in and our eyes are giving in to the pull of sleep- but it said awake. awake and find yourself among the petals and remnants, among the materials and qualifications. you do not come to this place in immortality; you are a face that rises and changes and ages- and always the sun will rise. the room with four walls, four barriers, only four of the million and a nondescript electrical box against the wall. something powers the world, rooms without windows have electrical boxes for the light- just in case.
may is our own private island, beyond us lies the sea. the sailboat turns the bend; the lighthouse guides in. the solitary soul guides beams across us, bring the ships in, against barriers unnecessary. hoist the sails, push off for the island. my island, our island, may upon the breeze. even in the four we see the light.
i see the light; it is escaping from the edges of our minds. i think we will remember how the sun did or didn't rise. and how it did or didn't wake us in the morning. the showers come with shifting mountain air; even when the clouds cover the sun, it rises. when the sun does not rise it is actually rising just like yesterday and tomorrow. and the walls are solid still and we will navigate the dark. we will kiss the shores upon arrival.

http://cookiemonstah.deviantart.com/art/The-lighthouse-lovers-94521084