Poem In And Then There Were None 소설 & 이야기

"Let's read poetry this evening. The words are so hauntingly beautiful and you will make them just sing off of the page. Here try this." Anders let his eyes wander across the page and read the words to himself, but then the cloaked figure said to him, "Outloud, Anders. I want to hear you read the beautiful words outloud." He read each word with clarity, thinking 'This is such a haunting poem.' "Wind and willow, come take me back to where the worlds meet, and bring me fractured to the sea, let my soul carry me to places and shores where my eyes will never see.

Funeral Blues Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone, Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone, Silence the pianos and with muffled drum Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come. Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead Scribbling on the sky the message ‘He is Dead’. Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves, Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves. He was my North, my South, my East and West,

Do not stand at my grave and weep I am not there; I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow, I am the diamond glints on snow, I am the sun on ripened grain, I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning’s hush I am the swift uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there; I did not die." He stared at her, "How about now? Did I say it well?"

I continued, keeping my eyes fixed on my pale, skinny fingers clutched around my knees, “and goes back to reading. But then there’s a tap on his window, and a raven flies in. He asks it questions, and it only answers with one word: ‘nevermore.’ He asks it about Lenore, but still its reply remains the same. “The man asks the raven if he will join Lenore in heaven when he dies, if their souls will be joined once more. At the raven’s answer – you guessed it, ‘nevermore’ – the man says, well, ‘be that our word of parting’ – he wants it to leave. It is a reminder of death, yet it sits, unmoving, watching him as he dissolves further into madness. Death remains with him, as it does with us all.” “G

Fiasca laughed out loud. "I am a businesswoman, after all." Emma shrugged her shoulder's as if it was nothing. "Yeah, the iron lady." Fiasca grumbled in disdain. **************** Short poetry for my lovely readers: It is an ancient Mariner, And he stoppeth one of three. 'By thy long grey beard and glittering eye, Now wherefore stopp'st thou me? The Bridegroom's doors are opened wide, And I am next of kin; The guests are met, the feast is set:

She asked I suddenly remembered the small poem in the book I have shared with Lea "Think of me, our time might come to an end. In a blink, you might be blind to see me." "I am on the brink of the cliff, can you catch me? I am shrinking, will you see me?" "In a wink, there's only one eye. In a heart, there's only one side" I haven't given attention to it but, it did affect me. Little did I know, it was the end

; Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there; I did not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow, I am the diamond glints on snow. I am the sun on ripened grain, I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning's hush, I am the swift uprising rush Oh quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there; I did not die. After the poem, I went on to give a speech about the people I had once called my family. As I spoke, my mind was invaded with several memories of our time together. I could almost see, hear, touch and feel their presence as I went off track.

She did not want to look at him right now, although she knew that was inevitable because they were alone in this deathly lonely place he had brought them to. She looked around, he had brought her to this vast wasteland of nothingness, it was here, on this very field that the great war had been fought. She remembered the place for how it used to be, beautiful and teaming with plant life, with greens growing as far as the eye could see and beyond, she had been small then and still a child but she still remembered this place but now it was desolate and dry having drank up the bloods of humans, Angels and demons, nothing could grow here anymore.

But instead, it's another one of those strange poems that comes out of me. "He who's lost will come back again, at the other end, no longer a friend. "Two are the faces of those in command, grander schemes to darken the land. "The monster's den remains wide open, giving the traitors nowhere to hide." My spirit rushes back inside me, and suddenly I'm aware that I'm kneeling on the ground, my clothes soaking up all the cold water from the melting snow. I look around vaguely, only to be shocked by the sight of a perfect ring of melted snow all around me, almost like I emitted a ray of heat.

The shattering sound echoed through the entire hall. Loud enough to reach even the front rows. The jar exploded into countless pieces. Gray ashes scattered across the polished floor. The wind drifting through the hall carried them away. Slowly. Mercilessly. Like the final remnants of a life disappearing before my eyes. For a moment— Everything became silent. Absolutely silent.