Anguish

"In the night, confused words are rising. And hands are still reaching out toward the light. In the room with its door closed again, where someone is afraid of dying, no more sounds are heard. Prayer is unknown to the inhabitants of shadow. And their lips, like their hearts, remain silent.

Rocket From the Tombs: Ain't It Fun?

From the street there rises a quiet murmuring. The evening is warm. Then hope is reborn. But the walls, too narrow, close in. They will long retain the meaningful trace of these figures. And even, for many, their names."

(Pierre Reverdy)