Marooned island. (a poem)


walking past the dead slaves
rotting in the gleaming sun
miles of water, no boats to row
a withered soul, for life, craves,
imprints of feet upon the mud
like dents in memory past,
searching home in jungles vast
arrives at door with a thud,
old memories like spider-webs
deter him from moving on
abandoned home on a marooned island
where dead slaves lay, dusk and dawn…

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