Peter Hammill

The Tower

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So: onto the familiar top steps!
In cloud-scud moonlight glow
the Tower reels.
I, the blind man,
feeling for a path I know...
don't you know that I'm only feeling for how to feel?
Rats run.
Snakes coil.
stare out at the whispering night;
rub mud on their arms.

Mud boils.
whimper in the human vortex;
faces glow of worms.


For pain shall come
and change shall run
down through my heart
and shake my knees
and NOW it is coming,
all around is the humming
of the World.

Too late! With my balance gone,
dead-eyed doll,
I'm falling, falling
back to where I began....

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