Undead - Poem by Herman Sequira
The forest path was growing dim
As dusk's descent came much too fast
And I imagined creatures grim,
But they were merely shadows cast.
I heard a sound; a mournful sigh
From somewhere there amongst the trees.
My calling out drew no reply;
I told myself, 'twas just the breeze.
Again...again, it caught my ear,
But then I felt perhaps the night
Was preying on my deepest fear
And urging me to sudden flight.
I thought, 'No darker place exists
Than in the caverns of my mind,
Where wild imagining persists
Of ghosts and goblins unconfined.'
I thus convinced myself that I
Had naught to dread in this dark wood,
And wandered onward, when a cry
Of terror froze me where I stood.
The voice that screamed, it was my own,
For I could tell what lay ahead.
A horror heretofore unknown;
To know I live, though I am dead.
Comments about Undead by Herman Sequira
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
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You