The pale autumn sun
plays over the
gable ends

where man has left
nature encroaches
walls crumble

Roofs once stood proud
now fallen in
uncovering the homestead

The storm approaches
as the ruins cower
from its boundless wrath

The island stands empty
None are there now
where a community once thrived

Whether it be Hiort or Scarp,
Pabbay, Boreray or North Rona
Only memories remain

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