I guess it’s silence that I fear,
 Or maybe crave, I cannot tell:
These strange, familiar feelings — lost
 Inside this world I know so well

And all that once was certitude 
 Comes crashing down in dust and din,
And what a mess I’ve made of things
 And what an empty man I’ve been

The fullest, widest feeling: lack.
 A prairie spreading everywhere:
This absence that I must traverse
 Seems endless, echoless,

 And bare