I Felt a Funeral in My Brain by Emily Dickinson

    I felt a funeral in my brain,
    And mourners, to and fro,
    Kept treading, treading, till it seemed
    That sense was breaking through.

    And when they all were seated,
    A service like a drum
    Kept beating, beating, till I thought
    My mind was going numb.

    And then I heard them lift a box,
    And creak across my soul
    With those same boots of lead, again.
    Then space began to toll

    As all the heavens were a bell,
    And Being but an ear,
    And I and silence some strange race,
    Wrecked, solitary, here.