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Poetry: Emotional baggage

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He hears strange voices in his head
Wherein exists the evil forms
Of groundless fears and morbid dread -
Those unrelenting mental storms!
He is like a schooner in a gale,
Moving with a tattered sail.

There is neither silence anywhere
Nor harmony of time and space,
But pandemonium everywhere
And bitterness in every place
Where all the elements collide
By which he never can abide.

He must escape the awful dread
Of doubt and apprehension now!
Still the voices in his head
By every means, no matter how!
He knows no hell save that within
Himself alone; he knows no sin,

Except what constantly he hears
As undisputed facts of life;
He knows no wrong except his fears,
The inner depths of pain and strife,
Perceiving fantasies and shades
Of senseless images of Hades!

Learn more about this author, Maurice Sassoon.
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