He entered - this iron rod -
Over our heads. And we
fly, We fly over the terrible abyss
Among the gathering darkness.
But the flight of indomitable,
The closer the end wafting,
Meanwhile radiant, the visible
The radiance of her face.
And through the whirling vortex,
Son despair THROUGH,
leads, It leads into the blue
Barely noticeable path.
3 December 1914
