"So Much Luckier Than Some I See That Will Never Walk Or Have Their Sight And Will Have To Hide Themselves Away From The World"

And what if one were to want
Very much and for no good reason
To hide away from the world?

Not a saint, not an abomination,
Not a proper, natural hermit,
Not a victim of war or the law

On the lam from a true or false
Conviction, but one of conviction,
A believer in the truth of the hidden,

Such as might find equal comfort
In the corner of a country
Library or a quiet secret thought

About why the world one is
Is not one with what is one.
That sort of thing. Excuse me,

I have to vanish shortly
And I don't want to seem
As if I meant anything by this.