text_original: Gripping the handle of my tomahawk, I prayed for guidance in my stroke, for the blade might go wild in the darkness. Upward crept the board, and suddenly it was gone from the floor. I swung a full circle  and to my horror I felt the axe plunging into soft flesh and crunching on a bone.
text_transcription: GRIPPING THE HANDLE OF MY TOMAHAWK I PRAYED FOR GUIDANCE IN MY STROKE FOR THE BLADE MIGHT GO WILD IN THE DARKNESS UPWARD CREPT THE BOARD AND SUDDENLY IT WAS GONE FROM THE FLOOR I SWUNG A FULL CIRCLE AND TO MY HORROR I FELT THE AXE PLUNGING INTO SOFT FLESH AND CRUTCHING ON A BONE
phonemes: ɡɹˈɪpɪŋ ðə hˈændəl ʌv maɪ tˈɑːmɐhˌɔːk, aɪ pɹˈeɪd fɔːɹ ɡˈaɪdəns ɪn maɪ stɹˈoʊk, fɚðə blˈeɪd mˌaɪt ɡˌoʊ wˈaɪld ɪnðə dˈɑːɹknəs. ˈʌpwɚd kɹˈɛpt ðə bˈɔːɹd, ænd sˈʌdənli ɪt wʌz ɡɔn fɹʌmðə flˈɔːɹ. aɪ swˈʌŋ ɐ fˈʊl sˈɜːkəl ænd tə maɪ hˈɔɹɚɹ aɪ fˈɛlt ðɪ ˈæks plˈʌndʒɪŋ ˌɪntʊ sˈɔft flˈɛʃ ænd kɹˈʌntʃɪŋ ˌɔn ɐ bˈoʊn.