That night the wind moaned eerily like the baying of wolves in chorus Who worship the moon so drearily in the gloom-haunted womb of the forest The glow exuded by the moon entered my window, filled the room And entranced me like sirens luring vessels to their doom
A frightful blight of benightmared slumber Daemoniac visions rent my dreams asunder Plagued by haunting images of love, sex, and death Of the fair enchantress, my beautiful Elizabeth Of halo-strangled seraphim—Of hanging heretics Of my beloved, fallen angel dangling derelict
Ghastly phantasmagoria!
I waked and arose from restless repose Flew to the window, then at length I froze I beheld a distant figure, an apparition in the fog Donning the familiar visage of my lost love
She came unto me like Ligeia in the night Enrobed in velvet shadows like nocturnal wings in flight And beckoned me to follow her through the gnarled trees To the fog-enshrouded mausoleum plagued by death’s disease
Seduction from beyond the grave Desire’s nocturnal call Her amaranthine beauty unscathed She claimed my heart and soul
I proceeded without fear or the slightest hesitation Blinded by her beauty and the persuasion of temptation With scarlet kiss, she licked my lips and grasped me hungrily Her eyes, afire with fervent desire, seduced me utterly
We coalesced by candlelight Baying like the wolves in the dead of night
Our midnight tryst—bedewed with mist—was abruptly interrupted By the dark, unholy terror of ecstasy corrupted A horrific feeling sent my head reeling with nauseating dread Repulsive revelation: copulation with the exhumed dead
The spell inexplicably lifted, I stared aghast at my betrothed My delicate rose, decomposed—wilted, withered, and unclothed Vermin squirmed in every orifice of my beloved, rotting bride Who lured me to her lair of lust, where evil doth reside
I endeavoured to cry out, but alas! no sound escaped me Bound by lifeless limbs, rigor-mortis-stiffened to enslave me Crimson tears leaked through the walls—The coffin filled with blood Stifling my gurgling screams as the casket lid creaked shut
In the stillness of the gentle woods, amidst the wintry breeze A piping could be heard resounding through the twisting trees A funeral dirge—sung by carrion birds—for the woman who captured my heart Who fell from grace—in death’s embrace—and shared cadaverous kisses in the dark