From an island, and in the middle of nowhere
And from a place, where to far from any town or village;
But only a place for solitude and rest for every stranded vessel,
That lost within desperation, to overseas and salted bay.

To where the sun rises,
Beautiful like an eye color
Of apple, orange and sweet taste of mango;
But hurts like every stranded pride from bitterness and burning heat.

And unto the island alone and lonely,
A place indeed for solitude and rest.
But no voice of any mans cry but a place,
To where the mind was drifted to madness and hopeless thoughts.

Then finally a bottle came,
For how many days has...