  Gently descending dark— Curtain of silence From heaven to earth; The drama of day over, Empty the seats of life, Dead the twilight fire. Curtains of black Woven from threads of purple By the hands of a star, That lone soul weeping Over the dead hours Laid by mute time in the eternal's grave. In the night of my soul Not even a ray, Nor a mourner present; But a deep dark hollow Where no fate weeps Even fear is afraid to tread: Fear-forsaken, hollow within hollow, Even silence flees from me— O, the pity of it! |
|
