by Emily Dickinson
786
Severer Service of myself
I-hastened to demand
To fill the awful Vacuum
Your life had left behind-
I worried Nature with my Wheels
When Hers had ceased to run-
When she had put away Her Work
My own had just begun.
I strove to weary Brain and Bone-
To harass to fatigue
The glittering Retinue of nerves-
Vitality to clog
To some dull comfort Those obtain
Who put a Head away
They knew the Hair to-
And forget the color of the Day-
Affliction would not be appeased-
The Darkness braced as firm
As all my stratagem had been
The Midnight to confirm-
No Drug for Consciousness-can be-
Alternative to die
Is Nature's only Pharmacy
For Being's Malady-
Last updated June 21, 2015