There's more than one island

Steel bars encapsulate a burning bush
on an island
in the middle of the sea
Cold northern wind chills the inabitants
fuels the fire
shadows dance
Zombies warm their hands
when not sacrificing witches
You survey this spectacle
from a small secure boat
orbiting the island since the day you left it
Another scream pierces
the media fabric of your dream space
a pin hole in the night sky
a white tear
that quicky heals
and you awaken
finding your orbit has decayed
The gravity of the drama
powers the machine
the fuel is obscene
isn't every thing
Row, row, row your boat towards the horizon
you can never reach
One day
you drift off the edge
of this cold flat world.