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Literature Text
Your heads must come to the cold tombs
I’d count myself a coward if I left
No Mans Land
And Death shall have no domain
There was Death at every window
And Hell at one dark window
The tower of darkness cries
If they go mad they shall be sane
Into the valley of Death
Caught its tone in Death’s prophetic ear
Now they all be sane
Though they be mad and sane
I’d count myself a coward if I left
No Mans Land
And Death shall have no domain
There was Death at every window
And Hell at one dark window
The tower of darkness cries
If they go mad they shall be sane
Into the valley of Death
Caught its tone in Death’s prophetic ear
Now they all be sane
Though they be mad and sane
Valleys are places full of emptiness. This peom tells you how much pain and suffering can be heard in one cry for help.
© 2004 - 2024 silverwolf71190
Comments2
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Very nice, that was beautiful once again like all your poems are.