Poveglia the island of lost souls

Poveglia an island with a daunting past
And now who knows
What future lies before it
From what die lays cast
Many negative symbols
Bore down on this place
Where Madness, plague,and mass burning
And great suffering was based

It sits within the south lagoon of Venice
And apparently most people stay away
It has a dreadful aura all about it
Contagion, madness ashes mark it’s way
Armies of plague victims
Came to die here
Banished from the mainland left to be
Burned in open pits
Plagued with vile suffering
Inhuman manifestations
By the sea

It’s said to be one of the darkest spots
On earth
It’s footprint marks such evil
All along
Curses, apparitions seem insurmountable
Some might see the sophistry and know
Lamentation, moans of the disembodied
Tortuous and forgotten may be so
There clearly is a funereal perception
A phenomenon of cold sweat and disgust
A paranormal experience with energy
Kind of unpredictable but a must
For those alarmed by what is comfortless
Tremors
An apprehensiveness that claws into
Really it’s irrational to imagine
The belief system one has leads to a view

Creating a dilemma and an impact
Each of us are fearful, we can feel
The nervousness our hair is standing up on end
It’s cold and really manifesting real
Sounds and clouds of energy spring skywards
Our gadgets are malfunctioning as we
Face an onslaught from the lost souls infantry
Dust and footsteps and gullibility

An emanation and expectation rising
Visual impact
From within a starless sky
Despite it’s sombre intimidating aura
And the plague fields and the darkness
That does lie
Out on the bridge and in the long hall
It was evident
The precariousness and untenable desire
It seemed somewhat of a fallacy
Misguided by a symphony
Imagining the wanton fields of fire

All those bones crestfallen so cremated
Miscreants that took heed and ran away
Clearly so much consternation in them
A numinous and ominous display
The island has seen it’s ugly dark emotion
It manifest it’s untenable desire
Being burnt to ash and down the ages
Compacted into soil from all that fire

The Americans were clearly rattled by it all
The undergrowth around the buildings were
Full on verdant greenery which added to the scenery
Where Scorpions and rats and lizards stir
Insects kind of bigger ones than normal
Scuttled through the ashes of the dead
Orbs and spectres sprung out of the darkness
Footsteps at the rear and up ahead

All felt there was a passing of their energy
As an apparition stole it from them they
Went weak at the knees
Then it sort of went away
Illogical irrational a breeze
Washed across their faces
Leaving them wholly weakened
Conversing with them
Seemingly did tease

Some answers and a moaning droning
Feeling
This island was mysterious they knew
All it’s long long history of unbelievable happenings
Compounded and created in a view
That got the heart strings pumping
Esoteric thumping
And the boats that carried the dying
Good and true
The ugly contorted masks
The herbs they burned there
Cleaning the dire air diseased and rife
One picks up as to the reason no one goes there
For within the mind there’s a risk of utter strife

Fishermen do not fish close to the island
For fear of curses and the bones that fell
And fish that have been feeding on the victims
Who came and died and created there own Hell
Once a year they harvest from the vineyards
But that is all that is happening today
All we see is ruinous desolation
Where serpents wild and rodents tend to play
It’s heavy and it’s dark you feel the despondency
A hopeless situation plays on your mind
It’s inauspicious ill-omened and feels ominous
Possessed almost and when you have left behind
The island and it’s fearful paranormal
A lightness comes back over you and you feel
Relieved you got off with your life and purpose
And retained of course your sanity and zeal