I’m down for some dark poetry side track…
 
	The Hollow Men by TS Elliott
 
	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 
	    The stuffed men.
 
	    
	                              II
 
	    Eyes I dare not meet in dreams 
	    In death's dream kingdom 
	    These do not appear: 
	    There, the eyes are 
	    Sunlight on a broken column 
	    There, is a tree swinging 
	    And voices are 
	    In the wind's singing 
	    More distant and more solemn 
	    Than a fading star. 
	    
	    Let me be no nearer 
	    In death's dream kingdom 
	    Let me also wear 
	    Such deliberate disguises 
	    Rat's coat, crowskin, crossed staves 
	    In a field 
	    Behaving as the wind behaves 
	    No nearer- 
	    
	    Not that final meeting 
	    In the twilight kingdom
 
	    
	                    III
 
	    This is the dead land 
	    This is cactus land 
	    Here the stone images 
	    Are raised, here they receive 
	    The supplication of a dead man's hand 
	    Under the twinkle of a fading star. 
	    
	    Is it like this 
	    In death's other kingdom 
	    Waking alone 
	    At the hour when we are 
	    Trembling with tenderness 
	    Lips that would kiss 
	    Form prayers to broken stone.
 
	    
	                      IV
 
	    The eyes are not here 
	    There are no eyes here 
	    In this valley of dying stars 
	    In this hollow valley 
	    This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms 
	    
	    In this last of meeting places 
	    We grope together 
	    And avoid speech 
	    Gathered on this beach of the tumid river 
	    
	    Sightless, unless 
	    The eyes reappear 
	    As the perpetual star 
	    Multifoliate rose 
	    Of death's twilight kingdom 
	    The hope only 
	    Of empty men.
 
	    
	                            V
 
	    Here we go round the prickly pear 
	    Prickly pear prickly pear 
	    Here we go round the prickly pear 
	    At five o'clock in the morning. 
	    
	    Between the idea 
	    And the reality 
	    Between the motion 
	    And the act 
	    Falls the Shadow 
	                                    For Thine is the Kingdom 
	    
	    Between the conception 
	    And the creation 
	    Between the emotion 
	    And the response 
	    Falls the Shadow 
	                                    Life is very long 
	    
	    Between the desire 
	    And the spasm 
	    Between the potency 
	    And the existence 
	    Between the essence 
	    And the descent 
	    Falls the Shadow 
	                                    For Thine is the Kingdom 
	    
	    For Thine is 
	    Life is 
	    For Thine is the 
	    
	    This is the way the world ends 
	    This is the way the world ends 
	    This is the way the world ends 
	    Not with a bang but a whimper.