Isle of the Dead (poem by me)

A rowboat ferried me to the Isle of the Dead,
Upon arrival, I could almost smell the dread,
The inhabitants did not look as one might think,
Their flesh appeared vigorous and pink,
Some of them had once drifted off course,
Others willed themselves there with force,
Their bodies never die but continue to live on 
It is their souls that are now dead and wholly gone.


*This poem is inspired by a painting called “Isle of the Dead” by Arnold Böcklin.

**Has God called you to pray for the nations? Prayer for the world is made easy with this free ebook:  Beseeching Grace: An International Prayer Collection.

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