First world's prison

The sun blossoms on the edge of its seat
A dying beast painting where sky and sea meet
In rivers of red stretching to forgotten lands
Bringing them problems from other men's hands

The clouds on the streams, boats of today
Sailing the problems off and away
Carrying them out from under people's feet
Carting them to places thought obsolete

As the beast withers in its eternal shell
The issues wave there final farewells
Trouble on the red and gold wave 
Brought to places and told to behave

Left forgot on the lonely shore
Murders and thiefs not anymore
Dropped, and left, for others to handle
An island now filled with beggar and vandal. 

The natives confused, upset, and afraid 
The first world's prison has now just been made
The people arrived by boatload and raft
Sent by countries, hoping they won't last.      

Left neglected on the sandy coast
Persecuted alone, but left in host
Criminals and bandits, hoped to rot
Left for dead, instead of shot.

Brought to dig each other's graves
Slaved there way across the waves
Holds filled with sinners blood and stain
Never to be cleaned by heaven's rain