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Journal: The Second Coming 3  Journal by MinistryOfTruthiness
Turning and turning in the widening gyre The falcon cannot hear
the falconer; Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere
anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is
loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The
best lack all conviction, while the worst Are full of passionate
intensity. Surely some revelation is at hand; Surely the Second
Coming is at hand. The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spritus Mundi Troubles my sight:
somewhere in the sands of the desert A shape with lion body and
the head of a man, A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun, Is
moving its slow thighs, while all about it Reel shadows of the
indignant desert birds. The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep were vexed to nightmare by
a rocking cradle, And what rough beast, its hour come round at
last, Slouches towar