Island of Thought

For it can be lonely,
But for a boat or two
That finds itself stranded here,
Even if for the little while
Here remains a novelty only.

The rowers of such boats
May think to have seen it all:
The fog of uncertainties
That the infinite surrounding sea hosts;
A sea of various salts of cruelties,
In guise, sometimes to itself, of
High morals that mortals boast.

A mist of identities surrounds this place
That so skilfully hides
The cursing woods,
And the sharp cascades,
That this Island of Thought, as it would,
All for itself prides.

The infinite sea hosts multiple such islands,
Often not far apart;
It’s the fog that plays with the rowers
That challenges the ethos of those errands
What for they doth depart;
Two Islands need not be so different-
In terrain, if the slightest bit in bearings
To invert the voyage’s pathos 
From within its heart.

The sea has brought the storm to these beaches;
The anchors are drawn,
The sands are lined with the rowers’ feet.
Upon this novel Island of Thought,
Novelty itself dawns:
Will the soul of this Island
Absorb the scent, or succumb to defeat-
At the hands of the rowers,
As the scent of their Islands
That over these lands now hovers?