There is a knocking in the skull, br An endless silent shout br Of something beating on a wall, br And crying, “Let me out!” br br That solitary prisoner br Will never hear reply. br No comrade in eternity br Can hear the frantic cry. br br No heart can share the terror br That haunts his monstrous dark. br The light that filters through the chinks br No other eye can mark. br br When flesh is linked with eager flesh, br And words run warm and full, br I think that he is loneliest then, br The captive in the skull. br br Caught in a mesh of living veins, br In cell of padded bone, br He loneliest is when he pretends br That he is not alone. br br We’d free the incarcerate race of man br That such a doom endures br Could only you unlock my skull, br Or I creep into yours.