Cape Of Sadness

Cape of sadness Black wrath of concentration camps Clouds that hover angrily Mists of hopes that fall Downwards Downwards Into the vale of Conscious and Sub-Conscious both: Thread mill that loses the breath The Poet Seer gasps, looks at the Heavens but their face is angry. We are in storms to-night, see the thunder-light! We are in the reign of sadness to-night, See, see, even the drear fading starlight! Cape of sadness Black wrath of concentration camps Clouds that hover angrily Mists of hopes that fall Downwards Downwards Into the vale of Conscious and Sub-Conscious both: Thread mill that loses the breath The Poet Seer gasps, looks at the Heavens but their face is angry Copernicus with us, the vessel by Columbus moves and there be land in sight: Tempests subside a little Are still green as yet As yet. You see where you have brought me to? You see? You see? Cape of sadness Black wrath of concentration camps Clouds that hover angrily Mists of hopes that fall Downwards Downwards Into the vale of Conscious and Sub-Conscious both: Thread mill that loses the breath The Poet Seer gasps, looks at the Heavens but their face is angry There be such low depths now that I feel the bottom Where have you brought me to? Why The precipice? Was not the Calvary Enough? With pince-nez in the fading light You examine my thoughts that Your refined computer transcribes: Like an electrocardiogram The transcription goes: The red dusk is in its throes The light is yielding to the dark Draw the curtain. Fragments that make the block The One from Many then comes: The deed is done, the job. O! dark thoughts dark, dark thoughts! Yet though the stomach churns The lungs feel some warmth and Some breath: The brain enclosed in an iron Sheath. See, see where they brought me: The edge of the cliff is ready Below the giddying heights The raging seas, the green of waves, The sea-wraiths and the spume And then in the night the restless Ghosts and shrouds: Pacing the city restless: come! Come! I will be one with you. Cape of sadness Black wrath of concentration camps Clouds that hover angrily Mists of hopes that fall Downwards Downwards Into the vale of Conscious and Sub-Conscious both: Thread mill that loses the breath The Poet Seer gasps, looks at the Heavens but their face is angry There was an end, it had to be, That was a bitter end and Yet Yet before the Calvary: With every day I prayed its end My prayers heard at last? The bottom I assert has now Been reached. The summit of the agony, the Cross, The yellow of paleness The last sweating Stop. Did I a Poet-Seer deserve this?