The Demon In Me

 The demon in me's not dead,
He's living, and well.

In the body as in a hold,
In the self as in a cell.

The world is but walls.

The exit's the axe.

("All the world's a stage,"
The actor prates.
)
And that hobbling buffoon
Is no joker;
In the body as in glory,
In the body as in a toga.

May you live forever!
Cherish your life,
Only poets in bone
Are as in a lie.

No, my eloquent brothers,
We'll not have much fun,
In the body as with Father's
Dressing-gown on.

We deserve something better.

We wilt in the warm.

In the body as in a byre.

In the self as in a cauldron.

Marvels that perish
We don't collect.

In the body as in a marsh,
In the body as in a crypt.

In the body as in furthest
Exile.
 It blights.

In the body as in a secret,
In the body as in the vice
Of an iron mask.

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