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Black candles dance to an overtureBut I am drawn past their flickering lureTo the breathing forest that surrounds the roomWhere the vigilant trees push out of the wombI sip the blood-red wineMy thoughts weigh heavy with the burden of timeFrom knowledge drunk from the fountain of lifeFrom chaos born out of love and the scytheThe forest beckons with her nocturnal callTo pull me close amid the baying of wolvesWhere the bindings of christ are down-trodden with scornIn the dark, odiferous earthWe embrace like two lovers at deathA monument to the trapping of breathAs restriction is bled from the veins of my neckTo drop roses on my marbled breastI lust for the wind and the flurry of leavesAnd the perfume of flesh on the murderous breezeTo learn from the dark and the voices betweenThis is my will...The forest whispers my name...again and againI walk the pathTo the land of the dark immortalsWhere the hungry ones will carry my soulAs the wild hunt careers through the boughsCome to me, my pale enchantressIn the moon of the woods we kissArtemis be near meIn the arms of the ancient oakWhere daylight hangs by a lunar nooseAnd the horned, hidden one is re-invokedThe principle of evilEvolution has been recalledBeneath the spread of a magickal aeonI stand enthralled...in the whispering forest'pale, beyond porch and portal,Crowned with leaves, she stands,Who gathers all things mortal,With cold immortal hands,Her languid lips are sweeter,Than love's who fears to greet her,To men that mix and meet her,From many times and lands.'A.c. swinburne
Black candles dance to an overtureBut I am drawn past their flickering lureTo the breathing forest that surrounds the roomWhere the vigilant trees push out of the wombI sip the blood-red wineMy thoughts weigh heavy with the burden of timeFrom knowledge drunk from the fountain of lifeFrom chaos born out of love and the scytheThe forest beckons with her nocturnal callTo pull me close amid the baying of wolvesWhere the bindings of christ are down-trodden with scornIn the dark, odiferous earthWe embrace like two lovers at deathA monument to the trapping of breathAs restriction is bled from the veins of my neckTo drop roses on my marbled breastI lust for the wind and the flurry of leavesAnd the perfume of flesh on the murderous breezeTo learn from the dark and the voices betweenThis is my will...The forest whispers my name...again and againI walk the pathTo the land of the dark immortalsWhere the hungry ones will carry my soulAs the wild hunt careers through the boughsCome to me, my pale enchantressIn the moon of the woods we kissArtemis be near meIn the arms of the ancient oakWhere daylight hangs by a lunar nooseAnd the horned, hidden one is re-invokedThe principle of evilEvolution has been recalledBeneath the spread of a magickal aeonI stand enthralled...in the whispering forest'pale, beyond porch and portal,Crowned with leaves, she stands,Who gathers all things mortal,With cold immortal hands,Her languid lips are sweeter,Than love's who fears to greet her,To men that mix and meet her,From many times and lands.'A.c. swinburne
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