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Nocturne

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When the mills of men have ground us To the fighting edge of fate Who can blame... if lying around us Is the wreckage of blind hate? When for dollars we are broken Like a twig for a fire Who can blame if by that token We inflame in razing ire? Darkness surrounds the masses of lore For a pittance we have done Who can blame if we give battle? We are many, they are one Before him burn the great unwinking lights The hectic stars of city nights Red as hell's pit, green as a mermaid's hair A queer half-acrid smell is in the air Behind him on the shelves in ordered rows With strange abbreviated names Dwell half the facts of life That young man knows Bottled and boxed and powdered here Dumb tragedies, deceptions and secret shames