Reflection

And I looked out one fine day

Upon the darkness of my soul

And saw, within my imaged face,

A weeping for my role

In the endless deaths of men

And the scourging of the mind;

Beyond all redemption's balm

With heart eye-shut blind.

My Youth cast love aside like

Battered leaves from off the tree

Before the wind could catch

Them, and set them flying free.

My spirit supped only on

The wine of time's hate-clad vine,

While my ears were deaf to all:

I shunned the warm sunshine.

I see nought now but the dark,

My reflection crack'd apart and

Leech-bled into night's sour fields:

The Beast to fix eternal brand

Upon the whisper of my soul.

I wait here, before the eye

Of your watching, waiting for

A blink -- I bid you bye.