I dreamt about the forgotten shore

   1000 days were spent digging trenches

    In the blistering heat of an island at the equator

   We feasted on squid until it came out our ears

   Our clothes were torn to bits 

And our skin was blistered and red

The water was brackish but there were no complaints

Those who complained were never heard from again

They may have ended up in the "stew".

Sundays were stew days and we prayed to our gods