Cry For Help Poem by Hepburn Caraway

At sundown I cried for a savior,
At 9 o'clock I wept
But nobody noticed the battle
On the outside, my face kept
Every reason for locking the windows,
Every eyelid to my heart
Stayed open but barred all the doorways,
With a veil too thickly weaved.
No answer, so I stopped up my wishes,
No help, so I shaved off my hope—
Just horror, and vainest backlashes,
As my fingers tear into my soul, and question the dignities making it whole
What is life that I'm here to fulfill?