Imp of the Perverse

Death by a visitation from God
Death by a visitation from God

I am shadow

Things material and spiritual

Maternal

Can be heavy

Suffocating

There are seven iron lamps
Which illumine our senses

Seven knives

Seven iron lamps to illumine our senses
And seven bells to celebrate the resurrection

Two marble balls in a sack
One long and slender candle
One mouth
Two reckonings
Consternation and treachery

Are you listening
Are you listening to me
Are you paying attention to me

I am shadow

Seven iron lamps
Seven oboes
Two small balls
And one tiny candle

Tiny candle

One pathetic flame
Embers dying

Dying

Five creatures from the monolith
Seven whispers from the catacombs
Five and seven numbing mumbling speeches
Are you listening

I am drawn to do what I should not

Guilty, guilty, guilty guilty
No, no, never never no
Seven mornings
Thirteen moons
Five wolves
One silk spread morning
Seven bells for seven senses
Each one lusting lusting

Guiltily

Two milk fed glands ripe and red tipped
Are you listening my little mouse
Each sense ripped from its bodice
Each gland primed to its overflow
Do you hear me my little mouse man
Do you hear me little cock

Semen

Are you listening
My little tumescence smear

Ligeia
I stand on the edge and am drawn to it
Guilt
I am shadow