Stephen Crane - Unwind my riddle

UNWIND my riddle.
Cruel as hawks the hours fly;
Wounded men seldom come home to die;
The hard waves see an arm flung high;
Scorn hits strong because of a lie;
Yet there exists a mystic tie.
Unwind my riddle.

Stephen Crane

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/unwind-my-riddle/