Spirits in bondage; a cycle of lyrics by C. S. (Clive Staples) Lewis
page 4 of 54 (07%)
page 4 of 54 (07%)
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I am the lust in your itching flesh.
I am the battle's filth and strain, I am the widow's empty pain. I am the sea to smother your breath, I am the bomb, the falling death. I am the fact and the crushing reason To thwart your fantasy's new-born treason. I am the spider making her net, I am the beast with jaws blood-wet. I am a wolf that follows the sun And I will catch him ere day be done. II. French Nocturne (Monchy-Le-Preux) Long leagues on either hand the trenches spread And all is still; now even this gross line Drinks in the frosty silences divine The pale, green moon is riding overhead. The jaws of a sacked village, stark and grim; Out on the ridge have swallowed up the sun, And in one angry streak his blood has run To left and right along the horizon dim. |
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