The coward dies many times before his death
You know this true by heart, my dear Will,
When to the poetic realm you had once left,
You know the writer’s best friend is the fear,
We stand alone before Hell's biggest cleft.
The darkness is the only thing to perceive,
And our duty is this gap with words to fill,
Until we are of our skin and breath bereft,
We die so many times before the body’s death
The Cowards
© Copyright: Татьяна Делиева, 2026
Свидетельство о публикации №126060101521
Свидетельство о публикации №126060101521
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It's a beautiful poem, I rarely see it in english. thanks 🙏
Надя Горюнова 01.06.2026 14:59 • Заявить о нарушении
Надя Горюнова 01.06.2026 14:59 • Заявить о нарушении
