No soil ever restraineth my sleep.
I am the dead whom the revenants keep,
Whom nightmarish masters blissfully spite.
My lust forever is ruled by the light,
Which never shall burn so long as I drink
The essences of my frenzious brink,
But touching my lips, the cold moonlight pains
Like crimson the flesh of bountious stains.
In shadows I walk, in darkness I creep,
In silence I stalk, in secret I sleep,
In darklight I hunt, in solace I burn,
And all of my writhings here are eterne,
For not even God can now smite me down.
I am the lord of all fame and renown,
And were I to die, I would be replaced
By some other thing of sunshine's disgrace.
Thou may here kill me, but I shall not die.
As your Lord sayeth, an eye for an eye.
I shall return 'neath the light of the moon,
And from you will draw another life's boon.