Sonnets Of The Blood Vii Poem by Allen Tate

Sonnets Of The Blood Vii

Rating: 3.0


This message hastens lest we both go down
Scattered, with no character, to death;
Death is untutored, with an ignorant frown
For precious identities of breath.
But you perhaps will say confusion stood,
A vulture, near the heart of all our kin:
I've heard the echoes in a dark tangled wood
Yet never saw I a face peering within.
These evils being anonymities,
We fulminate, in exile from the earth,
Aged exclusions of blood memories-
Those superstitions of explosive birth;
Until there'll be of us not anything
But foolish death, who is confusion's king.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Fabrizio Frosini 08 November 2015

another duplicate.. ''Sonnets Of The Blood Vii'' is both here and in the following page.....

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Allen Tate

Allen Tate

Winchester, Kentucky
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