Her towers of fear in wreck,
Her limbecks dried of poison
And the knife at her back,
The Queen of air and darkness
Begins to shrill and cry,
'Oh young man, oh my slayer,
Tomorrow you shall die.'
Oh Queen of air and darkness,
I think ‘tis truth you say,
And I shall die tomorrow;
but you will die today.
-copied from here.
I copied this poem for obvious reasons. I will try to copy a few more relevant poems.
No comments:
Post a Comment