To Natalie

Epigraph:    "...in these times, passion hath become more then any spirit,
         haunted or divine;
    flesh hath become the image;
 and our lust as the sacrament of it all..."

For the whole age of sorrow you helped me to live
And my lady, today you're the one I believe
I still have not much cash, have no silk for our couch
But do long for your fondness and yearn for your touch

All these graves in our souls and the horrors outridden
Scarce will show us the way to the garden of Eden
We can only unite in our passion and then
Bid the final farewell to the damned world of man

When we dance in the wind with the winternight shades
Our pale spirits entwine as our bloody past fades
In our hopeless attachment we seem to be true
And the Darkness belongs just to me and to you

Sweetheart! I walked alone through this meaningless life
And you dwelt in a cage like a force-taken wife
Let us flee! I will guide you - your fallen adorer
We'll be crowned midst the stars with their shimmering aura

Free in senses, engaged by the ghosts of Decline
Soft and tenderly joined we shall no longer pine
Lost in silence you'll sleep with your hand in my hand
And the morning won't come and our dream ne'er will end