Tragedy

poem

Iris Shaw

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I adored the night, and so to please it

Made myself a shadow,

And in all the polity of shades

Counted myself most blessed, for I

And I alone had made the choice

To lose my face of my free will:

Agony it was to see and speak,

Yet neither I required, for in the end

Night left me, and the sunlight pierced me through –

I wept, she did not come, I came apart

And lingered in the places she had left,

For now I fear the dark, and worse, myself;

My self follows me, and makes familiar smiles

And points at shadowed corners;

I know what it desires

And yet do not, for both of us are liars.