I have been there— I know the dreadful place. I saw the horrid crawling things That blew spume in my face. I saw the grey-shape toilers Bent upon their work, And in the strangled silence I breathed the rancid murk. But I was bound And could not move my hand, Nor signal to the others Who came to that land. I saw them faintly moving Against a strange sun, That gave no light nor heat Nor comfort anyone. I could not warn the others; I could not do a thing. I could not break my heart, Nor curse, nor sing. Now I am back From the dreadful place, And that is why some people See “something in his face.”
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