Killed By The Hypnotic Bastard

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