Thy tresses wave in midnight´s light
and shadow-clad thy shape appears
how gay yet gone this soft delight
how mournful art the tears...

Alas! All things are silent
and the garden is deeply asleep
calm is the sea with the beasts´ unity
yet rages my grief onwards thee

A tear - in fear
with a threnody to hear
in frames of flames
who leech my life their jaws to smear

I, on my knees came crawling to ye thief
who deceived me on the throne of cunt
and flames start to dance in a melancholy trance
in the selenite sky the frozen stars to brand

Twitching like the Serpents of Saphiria
whose whispers hold thy arms embraced
in a melody of Ophelia
with their evil tongue thy mind had laced
Take my blood for I`m o´thine
taste my life and my demise
I´ll to scent thy fatal wine
Be part of machinery!

Spend thy blood and then be mine
of love? Art thou of mourn?
Wilt thou in Hell´s abandon´d light
Part o´machinery be?

Yet I hear thy melody -
Indeed my song I sing to thee
To unique both joy and tragedy -
a league with Death to me!

So cruel my prison but gleaming my love
that melteth the frozen ground, trees and grass
of my garden, secretly -
it walloweth so drunkenly!

What noble heart
shalt chant this drama? -
Woe is me! - And our foolery!
And inly I weep on my blood
And ne´er grasp the Quiddity.

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