Remorse

Gently descending dark-- Curtain of silence From heaven to earth;

The drama of day over, Empty the seats of life, Dead the twilight fire.

Curtains of black Woven from threads of purple By the hands of a star,

That lone soul weeping Over the dead hours Laid by mute time in the eternal's grave.

In the night of my soul Not even a ray, Nor a mourner present;

But a deep dark hollow Where no fate weeps Even fear is afraid to tread:

Fear-forsaken, hollow within hollow, Even silence flees from me-- O, the pity of it!