A Quaint Island

The island was quaint Filled with traps and terrors I moved slowly aware at all times Of what was around me I made a camp The skeleton had given up A small axe and sword Now I had weapons for the monsters Clawing, cringing to night With driftwood I set up a barrier I laid down within the circle, spiked barricade To listen to them claw and cry out in the night Snort and nuzzle, drool on the clay rich dirt Anxious to drain me again