by Michael Angerer

Once the world is ended I will see
The glittering stars go drifting by,
Leaving their sparkling trails upon an empty sky,
Unfolding, falling, flowing slowly towards me.

I know not dark, not brightness here,
Where dawnless light endarkens speechless thought
Of future past and present yet unclear,
All non-existent in my lonely void unwrought.

And how could I alone be whole
Without all those who made my soul?
The silent bronze-song of the mourning-bell
Proudly proclaimed my truth: I was in hell.

The Poor Print

The Oriel College Student Newspaper. Run by students, with contributions from the JCR, MCR, SCR, and Staff. Current Executive Editors: Monim Wains and Siddiq Islam

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