Happiness, all snug, lies
As spirits roam the neighborhoods at night,
Let loose upon the Earth till it be light,
Laughing revelers, whom death doth keep.
O spirits lost, who wail but cannot weep,
Wanton worshippers of rage and spite,
Each the unknown author of its plight,
Equal in the pain you sow and reap,
Now come to us from out your vasty
Copyright by Nicholas Gordon. Free for personal or non-commercial use.