| Down and round and down and round
|
| Fervor blends with minds
|
| Keen-set mood, resurgent hopes
|
| Spirit’s striving higher
|
| Shut up in the grave
|
| Malice, gall, dismay
|
| Store equilibrium in sinister confidence
|
| Trial
|
| Look about, portal under lock
|
| Shades flitting by lotus-eater
|
| Signs on the wall, dim candlelights
|
| Cloaks, hardly seen meager faces
|
| Time lingers long
|
| Dust, pallid must
|
| A will to receive comprehension
|
| Mist, heart of stone, dark, I’m alone
|
| Task, gird yourself — croaking whisper
|
| The Sun is chasing folks on Earth
|
| Subterranean shelter
|
| Hermits learn to apprehend reconnaissance stupor
|
| Tribulation
|
| Hands feeding them
|
| Thoughts stuffing them
|
| Guards are watching over humble valets
|
| Knell is revealed, sooth is concealed
|
| Deft and adroit or deception
|
| Haul flashing me, soul pleading me
|
| Blood is waking me — pulsive instincts
|
| I’d go away road and depraved
|
| Niche of some hope, consolation
|
| Posthumous reflections of life
|
| Resistance of nothing to die
|
| Tempter fate reverted disasters
|
| Ventured passions of tremulous prologue
|
| Utmost veto, waiting scaffold
|
| The twinge of coma, vanishing moan
|
| Spinning rolling bloody spool
|
| Time is fraudulent
|
| We are carried to the point running through the debts of bliss
|
| Leave the payment — your body and soul |