The Isle

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It's been five days
In these boats of the glen carrig
When I's awed by such solitude
Alas, God moves in mysterious ways

So we pulled wearily towards the isle
I swear t'was all but flagrant flatness
If we'd only known it was sheer madness
We'd stayed away many nautical mile

Then there came the first telling of life
Like a lonesome wind on a breathy sigh
Yet there was no breeze that filled the air
With such a despairful cry

We harked to the weeping of souls
When it died away, no further calls
There was this monstrous silence after all
Again we harked, what might next befall?

A sullen growling from afar
The dark was full of it, I swear
Aye, no word of which I've knowledge
So well describes the hunger, most awesome to the ear

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