Escape from Freedom

Yes my friend, once again,
By the simmoom the heart is lashed.
Bleak vistas all devoid
Of any nurturing warmth,
Yet, radiating, killing heat,
"Alone thou camst, alone thou shalt be"
The ordained destiny appears to me.

But Hope, blast it! the ruthless foe,
Plays havoc with the seeing eye,
Sets forth visions ephemeral as possibilities concrete:
--- and when hope and happenings clash,
What else is there to do,
But let slip sanity and be,
Dependent, obtuse, silly, mad;
And so speak the truth,
Without having any cross to bear.

Let's go mad, my friend!