What I had not foreseen Was the gradual day Weakening the will Leaking the brightness away - Stephen Spender

Involved in my own entrails and a crust Turning a pitted surface towards a space, I am a world that watches through a sky And is persuaded by mirrors To regard its being as an external shell, One of a universe of stars and faces.

Never to allow gradually the traffic to smother / With noise and fog the flowering of the spirit.

I'm struggling at the end to get out of the valley of hectoring youth, journalistic middle age, imposture, moneymaking, public relations, bad writing, mental confusion.