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
all hell breaks l o o s e,
standing guard before the palace of God.
The visitor exits.