The Aching In My Head Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

The aching in my head
Feel I
Cataracts will leap
Into the moon’s light
And the night sky
But
Yet not so violent.

I feel the coldness in my feet
Ah! that be the mirror of the soul
The heart within!

When
There be last days
How solemn
How stress increases with each day!

The aching in the head
The stress
The self-immolated violence.

The coldness in the soul
Ah! it speaks not
Mute weeps
You will not hear it!
Yet it be there!

I held a mirror in my hand
And of a sudden felt
The dust grain slip
Between my trembling hands
And fade.

I had some joy
When I heard your voice
Then I heard
A voice as through a cone
Resounding in my head
The brain
Revolved to cemetery, tomb and grave.
The words together joined
Made the trick.

Purple the twilight waves
The changing colors
Of my fading with Dusk
See
It takes me by the hand with it!