Explore "Death" by Madison Cawein on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Through some strange sense of sight or touch / I find what all have found before, / The presence I have feared so much, / The unknown's immaterial door.
I seek not and it comes to me: / I do not know the thing I find: / The fillet of fatality / Drops from my brows that made me blind.
Point forward now or backward, light! / The way I take I may not choose: / Out of the night into the night, / And in the night no certain clews.
But on the future, dim and vast, / And dark with dust and sacrifice, / Death's towering ruin from the past / Makes black the land that round me lies.