Yet each man kills the thing he loves. By each let this be heard, Some do it with a bitter look, Some with a flattering word, The coward does it with a kiss, The brave man with a sword!
This poem is by Oscar Wilde It's called the ballad of reading Gaol. I love this poem cause it sorta makes sense.
Fair as the moon and joyful as the light; Not wan with the waiting, not with the sorrow dim; Not as she is, but was when hope shone bright; Not as she is, but as she fills his dream. By Christina Rossetti "In an Artist's Studio"
Forest, I fear you! In my ruined heart your roaring wakens the same agony as in cathedrals when the organ moans and from the depths I hear that I am damned.
By Charles Baudelaire "Obsession"
Not the sweet, new grass with flowers Is this harvesting of ours; Not the upland clover bloom; But the rown mixed with weeds, Tangled tufts from marsh and meads, Where the poppy drops its seeds In the silence and the gloom.
By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow "Aftermath"
Hell is alone Hell is ones self.
These are a few of my favorite poems ever and I love to read them.
Broken paths · Wed Jan 16, 2008 @ 08:46pm · 0 Comments |