My tower is the bane of Balfour,
It stands with its twin bringing doom.
Its spiral staircase with a collapsing wood floor.
Leading to the prince’s long-sealed room.
The moon has usurped me.
For I used to guide ships to safe harbor.
Its light now sets the ships free,
My absence will make their job none harder.
No more child thrill of unknown fright,
No more danger behind every tree.
Because the terror is gone when all’s alight,
And not one star can we see.
I see your fluorescent power.
Shining like daylight, glaring like noon.
Conversing in my wicked tower.
Just me, and my artificial moon.