The hazed images, br eerie resonances, br mysterious odours br cold touches br transcending the known br into the unknown. br The world is it of the dead. br Or, this piece of time’s slice br livings own. br br He stood br on the threshold br between cognisant br and insentient. br Gawking at the sky br eyes closed, he espied br dangling noose, br inviting at the end of br the bough br br Nocturnal silences heard, br ready for a new dawn. br Sensed, to stir, br every creature waiting. br He was deaf to the devil’s br smile in his being. br He wanted to feel br pass through his person br every birth twinge. br br Advancing, br putting the noose ring br around his neck. br Not awaiting, br his soul’s prolix reasoning br disturb his poise, br he jumped embracing br the agony to be born br into the world of the dead. br br Once, delivered br from liquid to ether br he had screamed and cried br Now as he left br the last gasp br he did not whimper. br The corpse swayed, br a mute testimony br of insatiable craving to be born again...