links on the chain

there's room here for some hope or so it seems
the thoughts and theories that are not betrayed
what comes and goes is vain desires and dreams
but here and there someone has learned a trade

moments of calm appraisal those won't fade
for though life passes on the measures still remain
through all of life there's no time to be afraid
we'll never free ourselves although we may strain

the moments of despair each shake the brain
not for us can there be the least good hope
out of each hour there's nothing more to drain
unless we desire to face the hangman's rope

but i've been told that not one of them can cope
with what for us would be the normal load
either swift suicide or the slow death from dope
that's what they can expect on the worst road

upon our heads we've seen blessings bestowed
but what's the use when what matters is power
we've never obtained the least that we were owed
but when faced with a threat we can but glower

each day each second we're in the normal stour
but how we got there that's what we don't know
each of us stands for what seems a long hour
yet at the end each of us still has to go

all's one in earnest the foul fiend and the beau
tied in one band made in the shape of men
we've got one boat and all of us must row
though few will hope to come to shore again

the tale's been told and though we say amen
the end's not close and may not yet be seen
the monster's been chained up in its dark den
and outside we await the new spring green

what we were once does not explain our mien
for we've been given form by our own hates
each of us is in our own eyes king or queen
and all of us are frightened by the fates