The Unexpressed

How dare one say it? After the cycles, poems, singers, plays, Vaunted Ionia's, India's -Homer, Shakespeare -the long, long times, thick dotted roads, areas, The shining clusters and the Milky Ways of stars -Nature's pulses reaped, All retrospective passions, heroes, war, love, adoration, All ages' plummets dropped to their utmost depths, All human lives, throats, wishes, brains -all experiences' utterance; After the countless songs, or long or short, all tongues, all lands, Still something not yet told in poesy's voice or print -something lacking, (Who knows? the best yet unexpressed and lacking.)