HUMAN CHOICE

Scraping in the shelter of the soul, the pain is stirring. From the marshlands of my tormenting fears, fear pecks food for itself. What can I tell you, men, with my tears that can be broken?! For you have always misunderstood me, you would not understand that the ghostly tremors of the midnight shivers in me down in the deep play Death's tide and pound on my breast the thundering rhythms of my delayed heart.

The crying silence within me would flee to walls; the delayed, trembling child - cowering shadows on my room's wall lurk for prey to stalk. There are prickly noises in this earthly world outside. The closed parts of the circle of our perces threaten universally. Into a bottomless abyss falls this pitiful life, if no one hold back thy arm to pull back: the laurels of shame-crying spleen-grieves, if they take not care of thee so embodied.
Thus the Nirvana of serpent-tongued refusals is consummated: it is fulfilled, like just satisfaction and sweet revenge. The carefree mirth that fled from me I can find again only in thee - In my surroundings this rampant, cursed anguish is overgrown.

Within me, like a hurt, weeping child - weeping, feeds itself daily with the flames of assured despair. The eye like a spark-blade cleaves the mass-darkness. Into suicides' open-throated valley, Into a wavy grave the once essence often enters; The freedom of human change That hopeful hope in thy brain Beside thee may yet embrace!