This is a ward in hospital. And, face to face with chance, I shrink a little. Here comes the basket. I am ready. With the strong stupor that I gasp and choke And sicken at, it is so foully sweet.
Faces look strange from space - and disappear.
All is away - except a heavy pain, Grinding through leg and foot. And, brokenly, Time and the place glimpse on to me again. To an immense complacent dreamery. An opiated, exasperating roar, The murder of my sweet first doze it knells. Waking I dream.