twas like a maelstrom with a notch that nearer every day kept narrowing its boiling wheel  until the agony  toyed cooly with the final inch of your delerious hem and you dropped lost when  something broke and let  you from a dream as if a goblin with a gauge kept measuring the hours until you felt the  seconds weigh  helpless in his paws and not a sinew stirred could help and sense was setting numb when  god remembered  and the fiend let go - overcome it was not death for you stood up and all the dead lie down  it was not frost  for on your flesh i saw siroccos crawl nor fire for just your marble feet could keep a  chancel cool and yet it  tasted like them all as if your sentence stood pronounced and you were frozen led from  dungeons luxury  of doubt to gibbets and the dead and when the film had stitched your eyes a creature  gasped retrieve which  anguish was the utterest then - to perish or to life for breath is warm and yours was all but  doomed nor dark surrounds for all the bells put out their tongues for noon and yet it tasted  like them all the  figures i have seen set orderly for burial reminded me of mine killed by the hypnotic  bastard drowned in  his own sleep a god of useless meditation a carcass of the soul of man with fodder from  the mouth of ages