Just finished Moby Dick, one of the best American novels ever written, I am convinced. Rereading the final fatal passages, trying to understand everything Melville expresses in a three page conclusion, head hurts, smoke.
And we as smoke
do spiral out of window's mouths
as fumes to silent ether merge.
Would that dying souls could breath
one final sigh, immortal;
would that life's doomed burning
might crackle out one echo to the sky
but for the stillness of that sky's indifference--
the deafness of God's ear.
Ha! what fear is there
for the eternally ethereal
when mounting vapor-thin to Heaven?
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