107 (when my mind was released)

WHEN MY mind was released

from the black cavern of oblivion

and woke up into an intolerable surprise

it found itself at the crater of a volcanic hell-fire

that spouted forth a stifling fume of insult to Man;

it witnessed the long-drawn suicidal agony of the Time-spirit

passing through convulsions of a monstrous deformity worse than death.

On its one side a defiant savagery

and the growl of homicidal drunkenness,

on the other timid powers tied to the load

of their carefully guarded hoardings,

meekly settling down to a silent safety of acquiescence

after miscalculated bursts of impatience.

At the old nations' council-chambers

plans and protests are pressed flat between the tight-shut prudent lips.

In the meanwhile across the sky rush with their blazing blasphemy

the soulless swarms of vulture-machines

carrying their missiles of ravenous passion for human entrails.

Give me power, O awful Judge,

sitting on the throne of Eternity,

give me a voice of thunder,

that I may hurl imprecation

upon this cannibal whose gruesome hunger

spares neither women nor children,

that my words of reproach may ever rock

upon the heart-throbs of a history humiliated by itself,

till this age choked and chained

finds the bed of its final rest in its ashes.