Gracie Woodsinger Poet Free verse

The Isle of the Dead

1 A land forlorn, 
in dark enclosed.
Cold and silent it lies, 
The land where no wind blows. 

2 Red shines the moon
And gray is the grass. 
Dark are the rocks 
That like teeth ring the silent shore. 

3 Silent creep the shades, 
Who like the fog do go.
The ground gives back 
No sound of their footfalls
For there is no sound--- 
No sound at all
In the Isle of the Dead. 

4 Bloody is the moonlight
And cruel is the grass that strangles. 
Terrible are the dark rocks 
That like  fangs line the dismal shore. 

5 Here my love went astray from me,
Here in silence trapped, gone away.
In darkness I rove and cry;
But no answer returns to me. 

6 Silent creep the shades, 
No sound they make, all passing me
And among them my love I see, 
And I cry to him to hear, to see 

7 But silent he passes me
For in that land, they can neither hear nor see
There is no sound---
No sound at all
In the Isle of the Dead.

8 A land forlorn, 
in dark enclosed.
Cold and silent it lies, 
A land where no wind blows---
The Isle of the Dead.

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