The
decision
is made.
American Poetry - 1922
I am tired. I have struggled in vain, my decision was fruitless,
Why then do I wait? with darkness, so easy, at hand! . . .
But to-morrow, perhaps. . . . I will wait and endure till
to-morrow! . . . "
Or again: "It is dark.
The decision is made. I am vanquished
By terror of life. The walls mount slowly about me
In coldness. I had not the courage. I was forsaken.
I cried out, was answered by silence. . . . Tetelestai! . . . "
V
Hear how it babbles! --Blow the dust out of your hand,
With its voices and visions, tread on it, forget it, turn homeward
With dreams in your brain. .
