Helpless, a party of six,
Eagerly, their sorrow spread too quickly,
Lusting, all of them, to have their lives spared from this awful mix.
Presumably they would all perish, soon and not meekly.
Hell would have soon been the better seat,
Especially since there was only one tree containing food,
Land area was a total of thirty square feet,
Perfectly leaving them in a desperate mood.
How and when it would rain, the land would be covered by water fifty meters,
Ecstatic now, they decided to split up,
Lost souls, half swam, half stayed on the land that was coming back by the millimeter.
Pens and needles they were on now, but who would have the better luck?
"Hey!" one man shouted, "I spot land!"
Excited now, a rancher made a rope from a tree,
Lassoing the other land, and pulling, shifted the sands to merge.
Poor souls they were, they lost all hope, when on discovering their lost comrades on the new island, where no life was to be.
