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Glowing eye cuts deep through,
the gathering gloom.
A pea soup fog with tendril fingers,
waiting to touch, to latch onto the unwary.
Drag them to rocky shoals,
wink, blink, on, off as it slowly makes it’s rounds.
A forever guide and friend to sailors,
with a mournful sigh of a voice,
that carries out upon a calming sea.
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