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Charlotte Nickerson Poem
Time had sewn,
And we had wrought,
Against a force
Seldom fought,
And we had dreamt,
And we had dreamed,
Of a world
Ever serene,
And we had run,
And we had ran,
As if we could arrive
At such a land,
And the world was one
Grey with gloom,
The old slave
Bent over the loom,
As a tear shed from
His face,
We were yet to
Beat him with a mace,
And a tear shed
From my face,
And a tear shed
From your face,
Our freedom;
Only in death,
Our joy;
Only in sorrow,
Thy come a sparrow
From the old wood;
A torn sparrow
From the old wood,
Among the grass
It was contained;
Among the green grass
It was contained,
Its beak broken;
Its wings only silt,
The young sparrow
Presented us guilt,
And through the wind
It blew away,
And through the wind
It flew to fly,
Arise from death,
Into the the fair day;
And a phoenix
Had flown away.
Our freedom;
Only in death,
Our joy;
Only in sorrow.
Copyright © Charlotte Nickerson | Year Posted 2014
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Details |
Charlotte Nickerson Poem
Through the journeys
I have foreseen,
Not an answer
To be found.
And through the times
I have waited through,
Not besides itself
Had phased me.
Along the roads
One shall travel
Through trials
Unresolved.
As mortality with
Sickle and stone
Shall take those
Beside me
Its horse in reigns
Ever comforting
To those
Without mercy
As soon
Absence shall arise
From what had once
Been time of suffering
Yet afar
One believes to run
To avoid
Such destiny
War had been waged
Against the inevitable;
A force ever
Threatening
How polite of it
To resume after myself,
As its realm continues,
In absence.
Copyright © Charlotte Nickerson | Year Posted 2014
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