A poem that begins with ellipsis' and continues with a volta at each new stanza, a poem that in the second line verbs (unworlding), easily holds the interest, if not grabbing it by the throat. Austin Clarke, creates such vivid atmosphere, and gives intense shifts in action -- from an orphaned boy, to burial alive, to wet dreams and a leather wall -- their own space. Abrupt change from the previous perspectives, the cadence of the action, and positioning of narrator and reader, serve to create Clarke's series of states -- realities, dreams, or fiction.
             An 'inward-outness' quality effects many aspects of the poem, at times it almost seems like a chain of events that happens as the narrator attempts to explore his inner darkness, at the expense of the outside world. His initial horror, typified by jerky movement and general bodily chaos, is structurally described by the use of ellipsis, fragmented sentences, and run-on-lines in stanza two. The struggle with darkness and sleep is exemplified in the narrator's useless efforts expressed in paradox, " His breath was shouting: 'Let, let me out.' But words were puny."
             However, the mood of stanza four is calm and not as marred with such jolting punctuation. "All was the same chill . . . And air was catchcry in the stillness." It is as if the narrator has evaluated the situation and, a padded cell being much more reasonable a thing than burial alive (yet what is a coffin but a padded cell), he is calm with the stillness and pervasive dark.
             The door is flung open and blankets thrown in from outside -- symbols of comfort and protection. The fact that they "mock the cringer on the floor," expresses a deep division between the 'cringer' and the 'jailer.' The blankets disrupt the peaceful tranquility of stanza four, but offer warmth and herald Margaret, "his pale protectress," who shields him from the inner terror written long ago by another poet;
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