and yet nothing of life remains he shall emerge exhausted from the terrible rigours of insomnia
out of the daylight - into the night
a city of corruption
whose opulent squalor
holds within its ruins
the sickening stench of its stagnant eons
whose agents of disease
are as sacred as they are profane
livid veins of fungoid rot
devour the foundations
in this insubstantial empire of dust
where science will not suffice
sooner or later
he shall end
by coming to his knees
before the darkness
the death
and the distance
He did not die