This Island is Dead

This Island is dead.

It's taken its last breath

In the form of the last wind

Bringing unknown traces of other civilizations.

 

It's closed its eyes forever

No longer seeing the outside world

Blind to the Truth

And anything it disagrees with.

 

It's stopped welcoming new feet

To walk upon its sand.

Only those who "belong" here

Are allowed to tread its shores

 

Yes, this island is finally dead-

Infected with disease

Brought by the very men who conquered it

I hope it rests in peace.

 

This poem is about: 
My community
My country

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