An uninhabited intermittent tidal island,in the Arctic Seas.about 58 deg (Franz Joseph land)N.L.Barren,windswept,coming and going with the fog. A hazard to navigation.
North Island
The tidal surge,the foggy frostThe snowy winds,the sailors lost
Rocky cliffs the only way
Will this night return to day?
I see it now,defies the dark
On black horizon,one small mark
A bright and blinking eerie glow
A signal light my course to show?
What is this land this silhouette?
This phantom coast,I'll founder yet
I'm breaking up,this demon sea!
I know this night will finish me
When soft within these winds I hear
A mournful voice assails my ear
Then crying out I heard it say
Come follow me I know the way
A phantom light on distant slope
To guide me on my only hope
A sudden calm as I head in
But louder still that wailing din
Just now I see a rocky beach
And moving shapes,just out of reach
Shadow men stand on the shore
And suddenly I am no more
Poetry by vladimir todor turmanev
Read 896 times
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Written on 2011-05-23 at 10:59
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