Into The Mystic - Poem by D. Harris
when the winter sun blows across my door,
i know that death is come.
With his veteran's limp
and his one good eye
i know that he approaches
and, as I watch from afar
the struggles of greater men,
i know he is come for me.
could it be so soon?
Comments about Into The Mystic by D. Harris
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You