why from ghostly winter-stripped branches
sung through by a strange wind's
does he return to deliver
so darkly the same bewitching gaze?
O, gothic disciple of doom!
why with black vision
do you shape cages for my fear?
for how long
must my sleeping mind
receive this sombre visual communion
you send down
from so bleak and hauntingly windswept a pulpit?
O, unholy advocate of gloom
let me be!
beholden no more I ask
to the satanic commands
inflicted on your lonely wandering heart.
defy I say
the masters of the underworld
you were born into