Hasty sketches flicker past
Merge and crack and fade away.
I search and search for finite frames
But all do break and broken lie –
Mangled forms of ancient truths.
Round and round I dance about
Breathless, gasping, weary clod
That palely crawls and creeps beneath
As if to…
As if…
Then sudden comes the fitful push
That hurls beyond the gaping cliff
And all the dingy grime and sweat
Fruitless fragments all in all –
At last embrace with passionate sweep
The dread unasking brooding dark.
