A Grave Is a Grim Horse
de Steve Von Till
And then i born to die
To lay this body down
And must lie trembling
Spirit fly into a world unknown
And must lie trembling
Spirit fly into a world unknown
Soon as from Earth i go
What will become of me?
Eternal happyness, or woe?
Must then my poor son be?
Eternal happyness, or woe?
Must then my poor son be?
A land of the best shade
I'm pierced by you, my thought
That dreary of the dead
Where all things are forgot
That dreary of the dead
Where all things are forgot
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Night of the Moon
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Am I Born to Die
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Valley of the Moon
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Clothes of Sand
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The Acre
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Looking for Dry Land
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Western Son
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Brigit's Cross
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Promises
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Gravity
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I-V
Harvestman: 23 Untitled Poems
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