• Ne’er again shall I leap, frolic and twirl
    Nor let fly my flesh, my spirit into the warm night skies of mid-summer;
    The bliss that once surged through my veins
    Hast left -bled out onto the coarse grass, staining the cold ground;
    Oh that enchantress! That alluring minx!
    The devil take you back whence you came!
    How she would bat the bluest of eyes in jest
    And toss a saucy smile my direction;
    Plum-colored lips that pouted and begged from me
    The softest and chastest of kisses;
    Now frail and fragile of body and mind,
    Do I truly recognize the nature beneath the skin?
    Cursed wench! Damned succubus!
    Yet, and yet, I would plead openly weeping
    For one more taste of intoxication, that rapture
    Ever you offer so willingly.
    A mere touch of your unfeeling flesh
    Leeches away the very essence of my soul, the life’s fluids
    Of my earth-bound carcass, a crumbling husk made by you.
    I am confined even as I search to soar
    In your radiant bliss--foul creature!
    But could I call you woman! I cry foul against thee!
    Why didst thou choose me of all those before you;
    How did I become your delectable dish
    From such a strange feast set before you?
    So now, as you go off to slumber in contentment,
    Here this dry husk, this washed-out skeleton is left to explain…
    That ‘tis better to experience the flash of warmth,
    The burn of Satan’s spawn as she holds on tightly
    While draining mortal flesh and sending mortal spirit fleeing…
    Than to live in the cold shell of life, trapped behind rose-colored glass.
    Such bliss! How I would still drown out the warnings
    And ignore the whispers behind my back, just to have you
    Caress me, coax me into paradise one last time.
    Return! I beg thee, heed my call as the mid-summer fades,
    Autumn waxing and my sorrow growing greatly,
    Weighing down my heart, in the very core...
    The last place of sanctuary within, I understand that you
    Inhuman spirit! Carefree demon!
    Were nothing more than a fool’s dream,
    And my mid-summer’s everlasting sorrow.