My temples throb 
Like the devil has set up shop 
In their wefts of flesh and bone 
There he threshes 
His wheat and corn
Brimstoned and fire shorn 
Screaming out his brutal song 
I’m enmeshed 
Tied inside my throbbing head 
Forced to see, ingest and feel 
The devilry 
Making me curse 
Making me keen 
In time to the pounding drum
And the terrifying never-ending hum
Of the devil’s threshing machine 

I try to think 
Break out of the infernal links
That tie me down inside my head
My raging, aching, splitting head 
But the devil sings
His strangely hypnotizing song
And I stop
Trying to slip 
Into my veins 
Away, away from the devil’s shop 
From that wretched, that exhausting pain 
And I stay
The convulsions hold me in their sway 
Aaaa-gonizing me 
Beating, pulverizing me 
Crescendoing with my memories 
And I sit with my pounding head 
As the throb in my temples counts the dead.