Like two doomed ships that pass in storm We had crossed each other's way: But we made no sign, we said no word, We had no word to say; For we did not meet in the holy night, But in the shameful day. …
And all the woe that moved him so That he gave that bitter cry, And the wild regrets, and the bloody sweats, None knew so well as I: For he who live more lives than one More deaths than one must die. …
Yet all is well; he has but passed To Life's appointed bourne: And alien tears will fill for him Pity's long-broken urn, For his mourner will be outcast men, And outcasts always mourn.
Today April ends, and with it my goal of posting a poem for every day of National Poetry Month. Though it took a bit of planning to make sure I had a decent representation, it was a fun challenge to have a theme. I’d like to do it again if I can think of interesting topics. Feel free to suggest, dear readers, any sort of “top ten” or interest you’d like to see me write about <3
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