The ship was rounding the point when the Island appeared.
Fog was covering the coast, an illusion in the blue infinity.
Cardinal points showed signs from North, where Seasons interfered,
As new dimensions laid upon the mast, forming from salt divinity.
Sailors stepped into the shore, while stars looked like a point of light.
Wind-bound hands touched the sand, like a breeze moving the leafs.
No points given, a land unknown unfolding in the middle of the night,
Dropping its treasures on the ground of new visions and motifs.
A point of departure from Darkness to Light, some trembling shifts.
This Island embraced their fears as a breath against the waves.
At this point of no return, they committed to their soul wavy lifts,
As faith formed new colors to draw their eternal, golden caves.
There is no point of vision other. Trees were their echoes of joy.
Cliffs and waterfalls childhood dreams that didn't have to end.
A night's strong point far from the ocean's insistence to dent and to destroy
A new life they needed to share as one, a new promise to defend.
What is the point when you leave from the Island of redemption?
To be condemned with points of conscience faint, to break what is joint?
This last stop, yet missing point, should be from life's deduction the exception,
This diversity you ignore should be your own truth's memory.. Match point.