How shall I speak of Doom, and ours in special, But as of something altogether common? |
If he could sleep on it. He would make his bed with white sheets And disappear into the white, Like a man diving, If he could be certain That the light Would not keep him awake, The light that reaches To the bottom. |
Men at forty Learn to close softly The doors to rooms they will not be Coming back to. |
Now comes the evening of the mind. Here are the fireflies twitching in the blood. |
There is no way to ease the burden. The voyage leads on from harm to harm, A land of others and of silence. |