But sorrow
is a strange country
never transversed before
and the traveller hardly
does its terrain know
there's no road-sign
the way to show
as rough winds
indifferently blow--

the sojourner
though weary and confused
must abide on his own
unsure which way to go
ere the dusk were soon
to cast its long shadow-

here time seems
to stop its flow
the heart struggles
in vain--will there be
a tomorrow?

silence
the deepest silence
broods all over-

what lies ahead
the worn-out soul
would not know!