The Isle

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