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A poem for death

Death visited my family yesterday. I thought this poem by Edward Thomas expressed my aunt's feelings as she said farewell.

Edward Thomas, who was born in 1878, began writing poetry only in 1914. He was killed in action at the Battle of Arras in 1917.

Lights Out

I have come to the borders of sleep,
The unfathomable deep
Forest where all must lose
Their way, however straight,
Or winding, soon or late;
They cannot choose.

Many a road and track
That, since the dawn's first crack,
Up to the forest brink,
Deceived the travellers,
Suddenly now blurs,
And in they sink.

Here love ends,
Despair, ambition ends;
All pleasure and all trouble,
Although most sweet or bitter,
Here ends in sleep that is sweeter
Than tasks most noble.

There is not any book
Or face of dearest look
That I would not turn from now
To go into the unknown
I must enter, and leave, alone,
I know not how.

The tall forest towers;
Its cloudy foliage lowers
Ahead, shelf above shelf;
Its silence I hear and obey
That I may lose my way
And myself.

Somber lines. I prefer this first line from a poem of the same name by Henry Vaughan (1622 - 1695) - 'They are all gone into the world of light!'

Comments (2)

BJ:

I am sick of these corporatist fools who know the cost of everything and the value of nothing.

I will sign the petition, thanks for raising this.

anon:

My condolences to you.
You are in my thoughts and prayers.

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