[Editor: This poem by Paula Fitzgerald was published in Venture: Jindyworobak Quarterly Pamphlet (Adelaide), April 1939.]
Despair has found me . . . . for I had to pass
By Madness, vacant-eyed in senile way,
And see her beckoning in foolish play
To phantom people pictured in a glass.
Now from my tortured being, Hope is drained
And, heavy-limbed, I stumble, scream, and HATE
This scourge, who sucks my very life of late
Until I choke upon a leash, bloodstained.
The walls close round as in a deep abyss
To stifle me, till even tears are vain:
And Silence echoes with a whispered pain
That never will there be an end to this!
Throw wide the doors that I may breathe apace,
AND COVER ALL THE MIRRORS IN THIS PLACE!
Venture: Jindyworobak Quarterly Pamphlet (Adelaide), April 1939, p. 5