Roving in the Cimmerian den of damnation Fleeing from the exposing Sun and the Mirror That uncovers all whites of flesh and mind, Failing everyone's sight, I slither into caliginosity. Dragging farther with the brace of oversighting eyes Until I begin to lose my own view. So, I spark anguish to light a candle But into a blazing torch, it explodes, My distorted shadow rises and flashes Onto the candid Looking Glass Which in front of the inner eye always stands Persistent and auroral as Polaris. On it those crimson hands appeared- palms joint in request Or rather begging for defense; Those fair hands, ripped and dripped red, Had been pillaged of virginity In the silence of cowed mouths, The audition of split ears, The beholding of wounded perceptions And the deflation of manly arms often exaggerated, Along with the cold stamping of cloven-feet, That had spurned her limp body - All of us equal rapists. At my legs she had sprawled Splashing on me, gory guilt. Now my eyes are shrieking with tears, My fists are beating my chest; Oh why had you then worn a stilled spectacle When the arduous showboat of Satan was being posed? Since immemorial times, Your fingers had Chanted on the rosary beads Which had impressed every eye that counted, Was it all ostensible, O Mind! Only a cipher of teachings had you earned? Better return me, for once, to that infernal epoch To myself bear those molesting stabs, Than show the Omniscient this withered face Or the blemished body that this self-reflector displays.