I
We are the hollow men
The stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece full of straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats' feet over broke glass
In our dry cellar
Shape without form,
Shade without colour,
Paralyzed force,
Gesture without motion;
Those who have crossed
With direct eyes,
To death's other kingdom
Remember us-if at all-not as lost
Violent souls, but only
As the hollow men
The stuffed men
II
Eyes I dare not meet in dreams
In death's dream kingdom
These do not appear:
There, the eyes are
Sunlight on a broken column
There, is a tree swinging
And voices are
In the wind singing
More distant and more solemn
Than a fading star,
Let me be no nearer
In death's dream kingdom
Let me also wear
Such deliberate disguises
Ratcoat, crowskin, crossed staves
In a field
Behaving as the wind behaves
No nearer-
Not that final meeting
In the twilight kingdom
III
This is the dead land
This is the cactus land
Here the stone images
Are raised, here they receive
The supplication
Of a dead man's hand
Under the twinkle
Of a fading star
Is it like this
In death's other kingdom
Waking alone
At the hour we are
Trembling with tenderness
Lips that would kiss
Form prayers to broken stone
IV
The eyes are not here
There are no eyes here
In this valley of dying stars
In this hollow valley
This broken jaw
Of our lost kingdoms
In this last of meeting places
We grope together
We avoid speech
Gathered on this beach
Of tumid river
Sightless, unless
The eyes reappear
As the perpetual star
Multifoliate rose
Of death's twilight kingdom
The hope only
Of empty men
V
Here we go round
The prickly pear
Prickly pear prickly pear
Here we go round
The prickly pear
At five o'clock in the morning
Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the shadow
For Thine is the kingdom
Between the conception
And the creation
Between the emotion
And the reaction
Falls the shadow
Life is very long
Between the desire
And the spasm
Between the potency
And the existence
Between the essence
And the descent
Falls the shadow
For Thine is
Life is
For Thine is the
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper
YOU ARE READING
The Hollowmen
Mystery / ThrillerWhen a simple poem turns into real life. A group of teenagers stroll through the corn maze on a, seemingly harmless, crisp October 31. They would never have expected it to be their last. As an ambulance speeds to the isolated farm in Kentucky, t...
