The I-Land

 This is a tale of an emerging I-land,

Where S for society is negligibly silent.

               

              Organs with ideals loud, in it were big three,

              And very unlike the alphabet, it all began with C;

Noble in initials, C took I to some gain,

Many say now evident, it intents not the same;

              Boisterous B began unlike, religion its fundamental,

              Short not sweet its reigns, looks for strong revival;

Parading all virtuous, swaying gazes along comes A,

"Lets promise I to glory," says, "C and B can only decay";

               Misery sea stepping feet, I-landers simply look on,

               Can any hold the surges, least survival be forgone;

Step up, say I, I-landers, its we who make state,

Just not C, B or A, A to Z build the alphabet;

              Master if we language, that makes I for all,

              No wave too strong to flood, eternally we can stand tall!