Convictus- The Final Testament of Winston Smith
Out of sullen, silent crowd-
Dazed stares reflected face to face
I crane my neck, my head unbowed,
Wonder what more shall be erased.
The piercing glare of eyes that see
Yet penetrate my final love.
I raise my hands, her death to be-
Feel on my shoulder his leaden glove.
"The place we'll meet be never dark"-
I, repentant, face the scorching light
The chestnut tree, the crooning lark-
I bow my head and release my fight.
It matters not how long the wait,
Nor for death's dark sleep how steep the toll,
For He is the master of my fate:
He is the captain of my soul.