An end to violence is not an end to fear.
This is the most placid day of my life:
The natural light, too, actionless,
A matte substance, milk and chalk
Unatomed and combined; smooth light
And the archaic, beautiful apartments
Standing quiet, in crowds.
Absolutely peace or a form of peace
Has come. Try to raise your arms against it.
Absolutely you possess no maxim
To disrupt such ultimate logic
And the logic is this: misery
And the continuing of misery;
Hopelessness and the arrival,
Always still arriving
Into hopelessness. Try, if you must,
To outwrestle and escape it. Perhaps
You will even succeed. But how
The last crash of the last cymbal
Became a surface, a dead wave
In which no flecks or sparks of foam
Appeared.
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