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
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