arid, wind-swept, lonesome and battered Island.
Soul, Doubt and Feeling reside here:
ongoing war, futile struggle,
atomic to end all atomics:
cannibalism of Soul by Doubt and Feeling,
no Doubt, no Feeling...
No Feeling, no Soul.
Desolate, magnificently bleak domain
where I dare lay the corpse of my youth
hemorrhaging of wants, mistakes and sorrows...
I'll surf the rainbow
before plunging into the terminal abyss
of boredom, regret and sameness
my Island cradles
the lonely, only seed
left here by hope.
I must remain.
I must provide.
I must prevail.