The great air birds go swiftly by,
Pinions of bloom and death;
And armies counter on shell-torn plains
And strive, for a little breath.
Pinnacled rockets in the gloom
Light for a little space
A gasping mouth, and a dying face
Blackened with night and doom-
As if in a little room
A sick man laid on his bed
Turned to his nurse and questioned when
Mass for his soul would be said.
Life is no larger than this,
Though thousands are slaked with lime,
Life is no larger than one man’s soul,
One man’s soul is as great as the whole,
And no times greater than Time.
(Alice Corbin)
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Based on Topics: Life Poems, Sadness Poems, Time Poems, Death & Dying Poems, Soul PoemsBased on Keywords: slaked, pinnacled, shell-torn