omadhaun
My window stone upon me pangs
Each harrowing , horrid view of hours ,
To herein thus I pose in purdah -
And breathe the stagnant dread of stour .
It matters not of other suffering
Whether the day or night is o’er ,
Every single Moment’s stillness -
Tis ever silent than before .
And thus to dwell in torrid lyssa
Within a Sickroom’s feeze of dree ,
Wherein so I stare and wither -
Edenic’s lorn is Thee !
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
I Stare and Wither
I Stare and Wither
