Neither time nor space will deign to hide me,
Shoulders pressed against the withers of the world;
The hellborn reeks blood in haste to take me—
His eyes are black, and his black banner's unfurled.
The stars reflect his fleshless ebon grin,
With eyes or sockets gouged amid the spaces:
The breadth of void denies the hell within
That man alone endures within its traces.
I thought the universe to be inert—
Indifferent to the meager plights of men—
So I blasphemed ascription for some hurt,
And learned the cosmos hates within its ken.
If in dying death's to me allowed,
Death shall rack me, for the Universe is proud.
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