ISOLATION EXERCISE
On holiday all alone
As many miles as I could get
from home
Without internet or
telephone
In a secluded cottage by the
sea
With nowhere to go and
nothing to see
No one to keep me company.
The beach is dangerous, I
understand
The tide moves quickly and
there’s quicksand
I could have gone somewhere
posh and grand
Instead of an isolated
haunted cottage with a storm outside
Close to a graveyard full of
the empty coffins of those who tried
Crossing the short cut sands
where so many died.
How many of them see me in
the night?
How many hide in the shadows
beyond my candle’s flickering light?
They said I was crazy and
they may be right
I’m far too terrified to go
to bed
In case the siren song of
the whispering dead
Isn’t in my imagination but
outside my head
Will I go mad enough to dare
the beach?
The other side of The Bay
looks easy to reach
To write such horror must I
practice what I preach?
Presuming I survive at all.
No one will hear me call for help if I fall
Death by misadventure or
suicide?
The coroner’s inquest will
have to decide
If I don’t stay safe and
sound inside
I have to face that which
gives me fright.
If these are the last few
lines I write
You’ll know I did not
survive the night
© Copyright. Arthur Chappell
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