TWILIGHT.
I sit alone in the twilight,
Dreaming—but not as of old;
Blind to the flickering fire-light,
Mystic visions my spirit enfold.
What means this struggle within me,
This new hope of a far-off goal?
This fighting against superstition,
That would fetter my awakening soul?
Why cannot I pray as I once did,
For self before all the world?
Whence came the flash of lightning
That self from its pedestal hurled?
But what if I’m struggling blindly,
What if this new hope is vain,
Can I go back to my old faith?
A voice whispers—“Never again.”
So I will press forward—believing
Hands unseen will guide to the goal,
And tho’ dim yet the light on my pathway,
Nirväna breathes peace to my soul.
K. D. K.