in parentheses

How many words are there to arrive at the summit of pain, how many have I thrown into the smithy to watch enflame, that words have arrived which have broken open the pain have cleared darkness from the plain have revealed me the mansion though as yet I have not the words to dismantle your reign burn your throne shatter your god mansion to send a force through your hard gaunt frame to begin your cracking to nude you of all your master over me, and you stranger you are the worst, fore as many words are there pains and there is only one who ventures these darkness plains these darkness halls these darkness hearts, one who is many but one who is one alone, demanding the most of these paltry words this paltry heart, who shall die without the dream of hope’s end, I fear