Fiends tear me to blood And slivers of torment In my marrow they grind My lungs they heave, My wrists they nail, In my head they beat, My head they beat Against the world. Sorrow slides and stirs Under my breast, Sucks at my heart With mouth of hell. I have conceived a stone That weighs me down, That falls through me Slimed with hot blood My stone is born, The wood, the bone, The dumb, the hard, The heavy, the dead Has rent the womb. Through the hole in my body I bleed away Through a void as vast As the lack of love. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BIANCA AMONG THE NIGHTINGALES by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING SLEEPY HOLLOW by WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING (1817-1901) TO DEAN-BOURN, A RUDE RIVER IN DEVON, BY WHICH ... HE LIVED by ROBERT HERRICK TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN: THE THIRD DAY: SCANDERBERG by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW SUMMER'S LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT: A LITANY IN TIME OF PLAGUE by THOMAS NASHE TO THE FONT-GEORGES by THEODORE FAULLAIN DE BANVILLE INCOGNITA IN THE TEMPLE OF THESEUS by SEYMOUR GREEN WHEELER BENJAMIN |