The Island

I don’t wanna be here tomorrow;

Not looking for your warm advice.

If I asked you to leave without me,

Would I have to ask you twice?

The waves, they begin to swallow

The edges of our barren land,

The paths we were set to follow,

Our castle which used to stand

Against the burnt horizon,

So dark against a bruising sky;

But the bricks are now worn and broken,

As our island sinks beneath the tide.

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