Savitri: a Legend and a Symbol, Book II The Book of the Traveller of the Worlds, Canto 7 The Descent into Night, pp. 211-214

0:01 In greater darkness waited a worse reign, if worse can be where all is evil's extreme. Yet to the cloaked the uncloaked is naked. Worst, their God and truth and the supernal light had never been or else had power no more, as when one slips in a deep moment's trance over mind's border into another world. He crossed a boundary whose stealthy trace I could not see, but only the soul feel. Into an armored, fierce domain he came and saw himself wandering like a lost soul amid grimed walls and savage slums of night. Around him crowded grey and squalid huts, neighboring proud palaces of perverted power, inhuman quarters and demoniac wards.

0:56 A pride and evil hugged its wretchedness, a misery haunting splendor. Prestos fell done suburbs of the cities of dream life, their life displayed to the spectator soul the shadow depths of her strange miracle, a strong and fallen goddess without hope, obscured, deformed by some dire gorgon spell, as might a harlot Empress in a Bush. Nude, unashamed, exulting, she upraised her evil face of perilous beauty and charm, and drawing panic to a shuddering kiss, Twix the magnificence of her fatal breasts.

1:39 Allured to their abyss, the spirits fall across his field of sight. She multiplied as on a scenic film or moving plate. The implacable splendor of her nightmare pomps on the dark background of a soulless world. She staged between a lurid light and shade, her dramas of the sorrow of the depths, written on the agonized nerves of living things, epics of horror and grim majesty. Wry statues spat and stiffened in life's mud. A glut of hideous forms and hideous deeds paralyzed pity in the hardened breast. In booths of sin and night repairs of vice styled infamies of the bodies.

2:26 Concupiscence and sordid imaginations etched in flesh turned lust into a decorative art. Abusing nature's gift, Her pervert skill immortalized the stone grain of living death in a mud goblet, poured the Bacchic wine to a satire, gave the thyrus of a God. Impure, sadistic with grimacing mouths, grey fowl inventions, gruesome and macabre came television from the gulfs of night. Her craft in genius and monstrosity, impatient of all natural shape and poise.

3:07 A gape of nude exaggerated lines gave caricature a stark reality and art parades of weird distorted forms and gargoyle masks, obscene and terrible, trampled to tormented postures. The torn sense. An inexorable evils worshipper, she made vileness great and sublimated filth. A dragon power of reptile energies and strange epiphanies of grovelling force and serpent granders couching in the mire drew adoration to a gleam of slime. All nature pulled out of her frame and base was twisted into an unnatural pose. Repulsion stimulated in earth desire, agony was made a red spiced food for bliss.

3:59 Hatred was trusted with the work of lust and torture took the form of an embrace. A ritual anguish consecrated death. Worship was offered to the undivine, a new aesthesis of infernos, art that trained the mind to love what the soul hates, imposed allegiance on the quivering nerves and forced the unwilling body to vibrate, too sweet and too harmonious to excite. In this regime that soiled the being score, beauty was banned, the hearts feeling dulled to sleep and cherished in their place sensations thrills. The world was probed for jets of sense appeal. Here cold material intellect was the judge and needed sensual prick and jog and lash that it's hard dryness and dead nerves might feel some passion and power and acrid point of life. A new philosophy theorized evil's rights gloried in the shimmering rot of decadence, or gave to a Python force persuasive speech and armed with knowledge, the primeval brute over life and matter.

5:15 Only brooding bowed mind change to an image of a rampant beast. It scrambled into the pit to dig for truth and lighted its search with the subconscious flares. Thence bubbling rose, sullying the upper air, the filth and festering secrets of the abyss. This it called positive fact and real life. This now composed the fetid atmosphere. A wild beast's passion crept from secret night to watch its prey with fascinating eyes. Around him, like a fire with sputtering tongues, their lulled and laughed a bestial ecstasy.

5:58 The air was packed with longings, brute and fierce, crowding and stinging in a monstrous swarm pressed with a noxious hum into his mind, thoughts that could poison nature's heavenliest breath. Forcing reluctant lids assailed the sight. Acts that revealed the mystery of hell. All that was there was on this pattern made.