(The House Without the Door)

I'll spatter you with acid.

In my hands
You'll study how to make the death's-head grin.
Your bones will smoke and smolder, peeping steam
Between the patches of your living skin.
I'll hear you scream.

But that won't be sufficient.

I'll get help
Let sister Famine teach you how to groan.
You'll gorge and crave, till, famished, platters bare,
You'll gnaw your hands and feet down to the bone,
No morsel spared.

I've other sisters also.

With their aid
I'll lock you in a nightmare pricked with wrong,
With whirling, windy voices, frozen fells
And black crevasses, and the cold that longs
For cozy hell.

You think I have no power.
But I do.
You think you've stolen all my pith and marrow
And every form of strength and will I had.
But I still have my sisters.
They will catch you.
My sisters, they will catch you, and you'll pay.