Oh my lust,
Oh, my heartache
Must You now return?

Hold me
At arm's length
The blood-flower's lament
Becomes a passing fancy gone awry.

Oh my darkness,
Oh, my life's blood,
Why have You taken such from me?

Keeping now
The lover Madness,
I press against her.
Feel it choke,
The soft, wine-red blood
That rests against
My dear one's throat.
Drowning all
In the false sincerity
Of narcissistic worship.

Oh Gods, my Goddess,
My sweet serrated Edge,
Give me now the gentle ache
Of parted skin
And parted words.
Let this cup pass from my lips.

The refrain of midnight's
Careful reason
Does naught to calm,
Nor to dim,
The weeping breath of agony,
Caught like a shard
In the place between
My heart and my tongue.

All of this
I give to You,
My precarious Obsession,
And in accordance
My wolf-like ways do not withstand.

I am meek,
The sheep to Your slaughter.
I go in the hopes
That this Madness will pass.

Penned by my hand on the 5th of Lleian, in the year 168 MA.