A penny for the Old Guy
We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats’ feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar
Shape without form, shade without colour.
Paralysed force, gesture without motion;
Those who have crossed
With direct eyes, to death’s other Kingdom
Remember us—if at all—not as lost
Violent souls, but only
As the hollow men
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.
Also very relevant to current events is "The Second Coming" by W B Yeats. Am thinking particularly of these lines:
ReplyDelete"The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity"