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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=536281" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Show</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">My soul looked down from a vague height with Death,<br>As unremembering how I rose or why,<br>And saw a sad land, weak with sweats of dearth,<br>Gray, cratered like the moon with hollow woe,<br>And fitted with great pocks and scabs of plaques. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Across its beard, that horror of harsh wire,<br>There moved thin caterpillars, slowly uncoiled.<br>It seemed they pushed themselves to be as plugs<br>Of ditches, where they writhed and shrivelled, killed. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">By them had slimy paths been trailed and scraped<br>Round myriad warts that might be little hills. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">From gloom's last dregs these long-strung creatures crept,<br>And vanished out of dawn down hidden holes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">(And smell came up from those foul openings<br>As out of mouths, or deep wounds deepening.) </div><div style="margin:10px 0">On dithering feet upgathered, more and more,<br>Brown strings towards strings of gray, with bristling spines,<br>All migrants from green fields, intent on mire. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Those that were gray, of more abundant spawns,<br>Ramped on the rest and ate them and were eaten. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I saw their bitten backs curve, loop, and straighten,<br>I watched those agonies curl, lift, and flatten. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Whereat, in terror what that sight might mean,<br>I reeled and shivered earthward like a feather. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And Death fell with me, like a deepening moan.<br>And He, picking a manner of worm, which half had hid<br>Its bruises in the earth, but crawled no further,<br>Showed me its feet, the feet of many men,<br>And the fresh-severed head of it, my head.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Wilfred+Owen">Wilfred Owen</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=536281" data-title="The Show de Wilfred Owen" data-description="My soul looked down from a vague height with Death,
As unremembering how I rose or why,
And saw a sad land, weak with sweats of dearth,
Gray, cratered like the moon with hollow woe,
And fitted with great pocks and scabs of plaques. 

Across its be..."></div>
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