An Island

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Goroth the Musician

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Imagine an island
Vast in size
Yet limited
This island was once so full of life
But now all the small cottages sprawled across the rolling hills
Like scattered tombstones sinking into a marsh
Are left abandoned
Imagine it
And feel the sorrow that swept across the land
Covering all, like mist on a foggy morning
The passing birds do not stop at this island anymore
Perhaps it is because they smell the stench of decay
Or perhaps they merely avoid pollution
Out of a sense of self preservation
Believe me
The broken porcelain spread across this island is not what I wanted
The few remaining animals that roam the island
Often slice their feet open as they tread upon the shards
Trails of blood can be seen all over the island
And they never seem to truly go away
In the night

Moths still flock in thousands to the lighthouse
It is the only remaining light on the island
Perhaps it stays alight out of some sense of survival
Perhaps something in this place wants to remain
Yes, this place does not wish to die out
The people have left but their voices still ring
Echoing through the vast tunnels running below the island and over every mountainside
Eventually it is inevitable that this island will be forgotten
But only for a time
A place is never truly forgotten
Open your eyes
Can you see it
It's just barely beyond the edge of comprehension
Can you see it
Is it there

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