The Islander

The all-seeing eye, gazes upon all within its sight,
scorching, burning, safeguarding, unwaveringly averting frostbite
A perfect mimicry of every being,
casted from beneath their feet,
A shadow’s what they call it, something that’s theirs to keep.

I raise my palm in futile attempt to block the rays,
Between the gaps of my fingers, i catch sight of an eagle who strays
The clean salty tang of the sea,
On my tastebuds linger unyieldingly

Strong waves like brave warriors, fearlessly crash onto the shore.
Composing a symphony of seas
I’d want nothing more
It’s cosmic rhythm, coincides with my own
An all too familiar song, inside my bones

My feet upon a gentle hue of gold
What nature provides, cannot be sold
This I pledge, for I know better
Valiant I stand, a proud islander

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