Can speak of trouble, pressure on men
Bom all the time, brought forward into light
For warm dark moan.
Though heart fears all heart cries for, rebuffs with mortal beat
Skyfall, the legs sucked under, adder’s bite.
That prize held out of reach
Guides the unwilling tread,
The asking breath.
Till on attended bed
Or in untracked dishonour comes to each
His natural death.
We pass our days
Speak, man to men, easy, learning to point
To jump before ladies, to show our scars:
But no
We were mistaken, these faces are not ours.
They smile no more when we smile back:
Eyes, ears, tongue, nostrils bring
News of revolt, inadequate counsel to
An infirm king.
O watcher in the dark, you wake
Our dream of waking, we feel
Your finger on the flesh that has been skinned.
By your bright day
See clear what we were doing, that we were vile.
Your sudden hand
Shall humble great
Pride, break it, wear down to stumps old systems which await
The last transgression of the sea.