And being dead, you shall not be refreshed.
There are no dead dead.
Being dead, you shall rove like dogs with broken haunches
Seeking the offal and garbage of life, in the invisible lanes of the air.
The dead that have mastered fire live on, salamanders, in fire.
The dead of the water-lords rock and glimmer in the seas.
The dead of the steel machines go up in motion, away!
The dead of electric masters are electricity itself.
But the dead of those who have mastered nothing, nothing at all,
Crawl like masterless dogs in the back streets of the air,