Spectral Verses, I, The twilight and the gloom
What fair voice calls my name as I loiter in the grave
a poet now besieged with ignoble repartee,
death is just a misty cloud that hides the quilted waves
patterns of the fickle tides that charge then run away.
In my youth I sang great chants, my verse would never sway
banished from my native soil I sailed to war with fate,
hearing echoes from my past I fought in unknown bays
hoping for a hero's death my sins to mitigate.
Alas! No peace, no resting place, unsettling as the moon
where my spirit walks between the twilight and the gloom.
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
were discussing Lord Byron
and this poem was composed.
I was encouraged to share it.
Comments about this poem (Spectral Verses, I, The twilight and the gloom by Captain Cur )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
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