Isle of The Dead

Arnold Bocklin's sametitled picture shows a broken man which curse was to take every dying soul through the waves to the isle of the dead, where the soul and the dying body are seperated forever. His only wage was one soul he could save from this fate - His one and only love. What would you do, when you have to welcome this special soul on the boat? And can he betray the waves?

This is the last you will hear - as wooden oars stab the sea

and carter's bitter song - a symphony for this doubtful scene 

for ages he has told -  to bring solace to his passengers

but with a lumb in his throat - only for her he tuned this melody

There, born in deceptive tranquillity

where lithic giants loom 

and only withered growths bloom 

- within the darkness of cypress' shades

where only winds dare to speak

and death finds - what he seeks

waves - to tear the soul apart from life

a single step - the final cut

the isle of the dead

- to bound the mortal in stone

a beating heart wont break this static

the isle of the dead

this is the last you will see - as carter works their way through each wave

and all his murmured words - reminds her of her once beloved

a growing doubt - he once hand himself for just promises

of eternal life - that she should never hear his symphony

this is the moment of arrival

the moment he closed his eyes  

his sisyphean task

this is the moment she bear witness

and static seize her chest

the final secession

as she has run through the 

shore and the statued guards

as his boundless quest was broken

by disobedience

this is the moment he took her hand 

necessity betrayed

but it's just a moment

they won't make it through the -