Claude McKay’s speaker is caught in the aftermath of a love that has hollowed him out. He has tried everything to escape—laughter, new flirtations, reckless experience, even physical extremes—hoping to dull the ache. Yet none of it works. The old longing returns like a fever, and he describes the damage as a torn nerve or severed gut that no doctor can repair. The beloved has taken not just happiness but his sense of direction.
By the end, the futility is absolute: every attempt to find a new purpose, a new beautiful thing to pursue, only leads his thoughts back to the same person. The mood is exhausted, obsessive, and quietly desperate—not angry so much as worn down by a desire that will not let him go.