Lore tells of a cold, brumous island,
thoroughly clad in a dead fog, and silence.
Patrolled by only a few, lonely sirens,
their purrs and songs have long since subsided.
Times of enticing pirates and beguiling pilots
have been traded for times of shyness.
Some opt for quiet nights of gentle crying,
others for anxious hiding.
******* creatures, once desirous,
now left forlorn, nearly lifeless.
Obscured, hidden from the horizon,
this island is their asylum.
Rolling green highlands adorn black, craggy bluffs.
Waves crash, vamps weep, fog rolls, and time slows to a stop.