UNWIND my riddle.
Cruel as hawks the hours fly;
Wounded men seldom come home to die;
The hard waves see an arm flung high;
Scorn hits strong because of a lie;
Yet there exists a mystic tie.
Unwind my riddle.
Back to Stephen Crane
            Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓
            
            
            
            
            
        
        
    



 
                      
			
To be able to leave a comment here you must be registered. Log in or Sign up.