The horns in the harbor booming, vaguely, <br />Fog, forgotten, yesterday, conclusion, <br />Nostalgic, noising dim sorrow, calling <br />To sleep is it? I think so, and childhood, <br />Not the door opened and the stair descended, <br />The voice answered, the choice announced, the <br />Trigger touched in the sharp declaration! <br /> <br />And when it comes, escape is small; the door <br />Creaks; the worms of fear spread veins; the furtive <br />Fugitive, looking backward, sees his <br />Ghost in the mirror, his shameful eyes, his mouth diseased.<br /><br />Delmore Schwartz<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-sin-of-hamlet/
