I look up at night and I admire
The loft of the stars that do inspire
An awe at that measurement
That neither height nor length, in my judgment,
Do make clear by their weak metaphor,
Far below what’s needed some sense to restore.
But it’s the depth between the highest bliss
And the utter reaches of suffering’s abyss
That truly puts me in an astonished state,
And how weak the thread that holds our fate.
For against the gravity of our tragedy
The will is smashed and broken and left unfree.

Featured image: ‘Under the Stars,’ by Edvard Munch (c. 1900-1905), image in the public domain.

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2 thoughts on “Tragedy”

    • I read your comment the first time and told myself I would go and listen to the song again before responding. But, then, of course, I forgot to listen to it again! Well I just did, and I think I see what you mean. We all have some paradise lost or to be gained in our minds.


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