Stephen Crane (November 1, 1871 – June 5, 1900 / New Jersey)
Poems by Stephen Crane : 13 / 115
A spirit sped
A spirit sped
Through spaces of night;
And as he sped, he called,
"God! God!"
He went through valleys
Of black death-slime,
Ever calling,
"God! God!"
Their echoes
From crevice and cavern
Mocked him:
"God! God! God!"
Fleetly into the plains of space
He went, ever calling,
"God! God!"
Eventually, then, he screamed,
Mad in denial,
"Ah, there is no God!"
A swift hand,
A sword from the sky,
Smote him,
And he was dead.
Stephen Crane
Submitted: Thursday, January 01, 2004
Read poems about / on: god, sky, death, night
Poems by Stephen Crane : 13 / 115
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