I feel the decay of this mortal form

Yet still the whispers of death persist

He speaks of marriage in life

But something stops me from giving myself to him

Could it be he harkens thy darkness?

Though he is balancer of threads.

Hear not now his fortunes of time.

I revel in what I have left of this.

Sing to me my dark angel;

You are feathered to my caustic brace.

We twirl now in divine infamy.

I am the demon in this.

Flickers dance with embers chastise;

Against the walls and your skin.

Playing with my touch as theirs;

I fornicate your every whim.

Intimate apparel and dragon wings.

Faeries sing of our tune.

Blasphemy of the deviled saints;

Beckon to me thy loon.

Sing to me my dark angel;

You are feathered to my caustic brace.

We twirl now in divine infamy.

I am the demon in this.