Uber Palindrome story

Dammit I'm mad.  Evil is a deed as I live.  God, am I reviled? I rise, my bed on a sun, I melt.  To be not one man emanating is sad. I piss.

Alas, it is so late.  Who stops to help? Man, it is hot.  I'm in it.  I tell.  I am not a devil. I level "Mad Dog".  Ah, say burning is, as a deified gulp, In my halo of a mired rum tin.  I erase many men. Oh, to be man, a sin.  Is evil in a clam? In a trap?  No. It is open. On it I was stuck.  Rats peed on hope. Elsewhere dips a web.

Be still if I fill its ebb.

Ew, a spider… eh?  We sleep. Oh no!  Deep, stark cuts saw it in one position.  Part animal, can I live? Sin is a name.  Both, one… my names are in it.

Murder? I'm a fool.  A hymn I plug, deified as a sign in ruby ash, A Goddam level I lived at.  On mail let it in. I'm it.  Oh, sit in ample hot spots. Oh wet!  A loss it is alas (sip). I'd assign it a name.  Name not one bottle minus an ode by me: "Sir, I deliver. I'm a dog"  Evil is a deed as I live.

Dammit I'm mad.