A Conception Pathetic

He beckons from across the languid room, eyes wild like oceans, caught up and glittering! Everything 'comes all dark, save
Those embers that burn right through my quaking soul! The old man is frightened and waiting to die; she looks on from her lunar
Perch and laughs, "one sip from this cup of steaming wine, and then you dream!" no more, now is night. Poison! They all sing to
Me, stars in their brightness, and young, singing in golden cages, rough-hewn by some dead race! I saw in one room a candle, and
In another a votive wreath. Which shall crucify me? Which shall resurrect me? Rain from her mouth doth heal! Let it run through
Me! I kiss her silken lips! And breasts that heave with passion e'er growing!
We couched below the flowers dead! And gave new life to them! No! Not in this place! By starlight he'll come to devour us
All! Through terrors he'll rise to hurt us!