Demon

'Tis in the night, that mourning-garb doth wear
And solemn stars the only witness bear,
     The weary eyelid of the moon rests closed,
     In grace its pallid contour lies reposed
And guardeth which it hath no strength to share,

His gentle step I hear, and then I know
Why to the day he durst not let his face to show:
     It is for charity, for he, by kindness won,
     With his visage doth not wish to blind the Sun
And turn all men to ice and fields to snow...

The rays which reach for Heaven at the hour of dawn
Have little to compare with how his eyes have shone ---
     With the bitter flame of that which hath no light,
     Unbearable and frightening to the sight,
Yet whose magnificence surpasseth hell alone...

With such a grace it pained my eyes to see,
He swift came closer by my side to be,
     His brazen skin, which smelt of incense rare,
     And charcoal-black curled tresses of his hair
With a sultry, ardent whisper gave his name to me.

What cruelty hath Chance contrived in his foul mind?
Wherefore the sky so pitiless and Hell so blind?
     This long forgotten was, drowned in a sea of bliss,
     For bound together in an agonising kiss
We filled the covenant that we with love have signed.

Outside, the heavens raged and angels' tempers flew;
In ire they stormed the earth and fierce their trumpets blew.
     The Sun himself had hid his eyes in purple shame,
     Grieving for our joyless fate, in fire, in dark, in vain...
What care had I, that we were bound to rue?

I willed to see Heaven's gates shut before my eyes,
In shame be turned away from self-proclaimèd paradise,
     Where trees do ever blossom and bear fruit,
     Where there is verdant grass and flowers underfoot,
But where the coiling flames of passion never spark and rise....

Amidst lush greenery and beauty only to admire
Is little place for such a ruthless, all-consuming fire
     That clings to flesh and mind alike, as lightning fleet,
     So that the fearsome hand of Reason it ne'er may meet,
That births all frantic joys and wild desire.

Defying that which God decreed in sickly whim,
Clove I to the demon's flesh, and gave myself to him,
     Since now, no more I wished than scarce to dwell
     With him, together, in the sunken depths of Hell,
For all entwined, in joy, in love, in sin.