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Prospice

Rating: 3.2

Fear death?---to feel the fog in my throat,
The mist in my face,
When the snows begin, and the blasts denote
I am nearing the place,
The power of the night, the press of the storm,
The post of the foe;
Where he stands, the Arch Fear in a visible form;
Yet the strong man must go:
For the journey is done and the summit attained,
And the barriers fall,

Though a battle's to fight ere the guerdon be gained,
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Godfrey Morris 07 May 2015

Awesome write. Lovely

1 1 Reply
John Richter 07 May 2015

An ode to death, or perhaps the fear - or more like the angst of death - A piano teacher told me that there are no 'wrong' keys on the piano.... True that. But some are all-together shrill and certainly disproportionate when played together or in sequence. And then there are those like this poem - resting in absolute and synchronous perfection.....

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