Island Or Something Sinister!

Off the coastal promontories,
Where eddies break in white,
A rocky island appears ant and alive:
Braving the collosal tides;
Fearless as Ajax with his Sheild
Of eight layered oxhides.

Years came, years gone:
I saw the dying decade;
I saw the scornful score;
My eyes caught some subtle differences,
Which I dared not to let loose,
Lest people think I am mateless goose.

One night, when the moon hung bright:
The welkin became the ocean,
The ocean the welkin;
Silence was overwhelming,
Save the surges unfolding,
I took a boat and strove to oar.

From nowhere, the tribes of mist crept in,
Ominosity hovered about me,
I dared not to see the shore behind,
Fear is the pitch-black ocean above,
Terror the black pitch beneath,
My heart became stone — numb and cold.

Far yet close, the Rocky island afloat,
A wonder to behold;
Unlike anything I have seen or known,
By jove! It moved!
A faint groan! Again it moved!
Darkness gulped my oar, then my soul.

What I saw was dim and dank,
Murderous breaths wuthering near;
My weltering boat endured the blasphemy,
Of something sinister, something grotesque rising:
Flaunting whetted jaws that enjoyed killing,
Belching nightmares and ghoulish dins.

My knees hapless, my eyes so weak,
Strengthless though I was,
In the gloom, what I witnessed,
Would to God I should not have oared!
A figure like the craggy mountain stood tall,
After a chaos, disappeared into the sinful deep.

The vissage remained like Taratarus mystery,
I saw a tail, I saw the dagger like spikes,
I saw the back — eerie gothic castle walls,
Two hands stretched out from the right trunk:
Pitiless claws jeering under moonlight,
An insidious shadow authoring shiver!