The Aching In My Head

The aching in my head Feel I Cataracts will leap Into the moon’s light And the night sky But Yet not so violent. I feel the coldness in my feet Ah! that be the mirror of the soul The heart within! When There be last days How solemn How stress increases with each day! The aching in the head The stress The self-immolated violence. The coldness in the soul Ah! it speaks not Mute weeps You will not hear it! Yet it be there! I held a mirror in my hand And of a sudden felt The dust grain slip Between my trembling hands And fade. I had some joy When I heard your voice Then I heard A voice as through a cone Resounding in my head The brain Revolved to cemetery, tomb and grave. The words together joined Made the trick. Purple the twilight waves The changing colors Of my fading with Dusk See It takes me by the hand with it!