I think this poem can be viewed from so many differing perspectives. I think almost anyone can get something out of it.
I died for beauty, but was scarce
Adjusted in the tomb,
When one who died for truth was lain
In an adjoining room.
He questioned softly why I failed?
"For beauty," I replied.
"And I for truth,--the two are one;
We brethren are," he said.
We talked between the rooms.
Until the moss had reached our lips,
And covered up our names.
1 comment:
Touching.
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