Wednesday, December 07, 2011

A Dull Sound As Of Knocking - Robert E. Howard

Who raps here at my door tonight,
Stirring my sleep with the deadened sound?
Here in my Room there is naught of light,
And silence locks me round.

The taste of earth is in my mouth,
Stillness, decay and lack of light,
And dull as doom the rapping
Thuds on my Door tonight.

My room is narrow and still and black,
In such have kings and beggars hid;
And falling clods are the knuckles
That rap on my coffin lid.

3.5 out of 5