Richard K. P. Morrison
House By The Gallows
My shell is filled with pain,
No safety in its hollow.
Outside I hear the rain,
Pattering on the gallows.
Spinning slow to the gray shroud,
I see the mist of misery.
Dread covers the crowd,
As they all stop and see.
The sight of her my truest friend,
Through the window, I see the gallows.
Thy beauty carried through, the end,
Even now I am in wow.
A tear entrenches on my face,
She is gone, he says smiling wide.
Thy executioner, deadly trace,
The misery, I denied to hide.
The tears they roll,
In a house by the gallows.
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Comments about this poem (House By The Gallows by Richard K. P. Morrison )
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
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