He fought like those Who've nought to lose

Emily Dickinson

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759

He fought like those Who've nought to lose—
Bestowed Himself to Balls
As One who for a further Life
Had not a further Use—

Invited Death—with bold attempt—
But Death was Coy of Him
As Other Men, were Coy of Death—
To Him—to live—was Doom—

His Comrades, shifted like the Flakes
When Gusts reverse the Snow—
But He—was left alive Because
Of Greediness to die—

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Comments1
  • NathanWagoner

    WHAT A POWERFUL POEM! JUST GOES TO SHOW THE BRUTAL REALITY OF WAR AND THE HIGH COST OF COURAGE. CHILLS!