The Island is Dark

A poem I wrote

The island is dark, tonight upon our arrival we are made to decide between
The Weapons or that they lose their fear, and we thought at first the latter as
We did not understand exactly the stakes, and then, from our guts,
Chose the guns from the glistening bin, for we began to fear them, and then
Again we chose the latter; for if they did not fear us we were surely safe
The shop at the far side of the room was silent, like the bar, and dark
Like it also.