Houses built of four human corners and two human handles, 
It breathes in darkness...

The Visitor Enters 

    W H O L E  of dull, dark, and sound[less] day 
    clouds hung oppressively low in heavens 
" Hail the bodily heathen! ", an excessive nervous agitation 
a man so altered 
this malady- morbid guile of the senses 
sentience/ 3,000  pensive knives 
hearing a breathe like a death rattle, usher in i begin to die 
insufferable gloom pervades my spirit
" All in vain, I tell you. It is all in vain. "  
The mourning touches the hand 
C R A S H 
the fall. 
all hell breaks l o o s e,
standing guard before the palace of God. 

The visitor exits.