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with my teeth until my whole head Is one mass of bleeding wounds; and ever and anon I raise my voice in an unearthly cry that serves only to curdle my own blood with its weird horror. At last, smothered and exhausted, I sink down in stolid despair to die. Buried alive — buried soul and body — buried when one little puncture of the skin would have saved me; lost perhaps through my pet vice, for which I sacrificed my life and my all; abandoned by the world and my dearest friends; crazed with hunger and thirst, tortured in every sense; mad with vain regret for what I have lost and lost forever. O God, the cup of my bitterness is filled, let me die. Ah, well might I say with my last breath: " Oh, all ye that pass by the way, come and see if there is, or ever was, woe like to my woe." But a damned soul may answer me from hell: "Alas! multiply your miseries ten thousand times and even then they will fall infinitely short of mine. Could I change places with you, your condition would be heaven for me after the horrors of my present abode. I am buried body and soul, not in the cool earth with a rich and padded casket around me, but in a sea of fire which penetrates my very vitals. I am not alone with only myself to wound and my own yells to terrify me, but I am in the midst of loathsome devils who cut and tear me limb from limb, and terrify me with howls, compared with which the yell of a maniac is a whisper. I have lost, not the world, but God. i cannot hope for death to come and relieve me, for I seek and pursue the demon of death but it flies from me and mockingly