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| The Ship of Death | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jul 27 2014, 09:34 PM (6 Views) | |
| Fiona | Jul 27 2014, 09:34 PM Post #1 |
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II Have you built your ship of death, O have you? O build your ship of death, for you will need it. The grim frost is at hand, when the apples will fall thick, almost thundrous, on the hardened earth. And death is on the air like a smell of ashes! Ah! can't you smell it? And in the bruised body, the frightened soul finds itself shrinking, wincing from the cold that blows upon it through the orifices. III And can a man his own quietus make with a bare bodkin? With daggers, bodkins, bullets, man can make a bruise or break of exit for his life; but is that a quietus, O tell me, is it quietus? Surely not so! for how could murder, even self-murder ever a quietus make? |
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8:01 PM Jul 10