I'll cry death to sleep
For what need have I of he?
They, the nightly things who creep,
No longer hold fear to me.

Look straight into the shining pupils of Ending.
See your flesh made whole.
What black angel or demon, dark defending,
Can now harm your exalted soul?

Glance sideways into the dull heart of life.
See your flesh-made hole-
Cut and burned by the freezing knife
Whose supposed impotence you did extol.

I'll cry sleep to death
For what need have I of it now?
In the night I creep
And to the dark I bow.