Swain: “Who Holds the Rope?”
Mockery and self justice are the same in one
Could you hope to deny your mind its right?
Drowning destiny surrenders to your waning
You can’t cope
Might as well get yourself a rope
You can only dream
But your imagination is lost in the slipstream.
When will you learn
That at twenty-two you must be stalwart and stern.
At love’s cost you will shackle all your earthly bonds
The song of the inmate is a lonely and wild call
And Swain you have been able to sing it so well
You can’t fight
Might as well surrender to the night
You can only cry
But your tears seem to always be dry
What of your intention
That at twenty-two you still remain in detention.
The hue of the skies seem oblique and surreal
The distant thunder of the railroad describing torment
To those who share the quiet agony of restraint.
Someday when the moon fails to glow
The whispering flight of a great airplane
Passes over the terrain with a silent echo
The doors of life will be shut on poor Swain.