Giveth but half a description: crude,
The state of the self incessant, I brood
Fatigued; In vain, in the dark
I await, a patient ear that lark-

My pain, a frozen litany but to utter
Unconsoled, feeble, I stutter
That, my desolate heart belongeth not in gaiety,
nor misery..an existential entity, a lost liberty.