Explore "The Crash" by Paul Bewsher on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The rich, red blood / Doth stain the fair, green grass, and daisies white / In generous flood. / This sun-drowsed day for me is darkest night. / O! wreck of splintered wood and twisted wire, / What blind, unmeasured hatred you inspire / Because yours was the power that life to end. / Of him, who was my friend!
This morn we lay upon the grass, / And watched the languid hours pass; / A lark, deep in the sky's blue sea, / Sang ecstasies to him and me.