My eyes hold the eventide,   albeit behind the eys thou hast   thro' which I 'hold naught else   a flame enshroudéd in its blackness;   but the raven;   burning without the faintest breeze.   Sleep my dearest ones -    teach me, dearest, the reason wherefore   mind not the palling velvet darkness   thou by such angst mark'd art?!      Wherefore is here loneliness?;   infinite hollowness   in which my thoughts echo,   to the shadows I whisper -   with the shadows I waltz -   bear me; I am not the plague,   altho' nightclad death...mayhap?!      Dare not naysaying my grant;   dance no longer with the shadows,   vanish with me abaft the unlight! -   dance no longer with the dead in the graveyard;   O! the tast on thine lips;   dance with me the mephisto waltz.   A trickling deep red love -   wedlock 'twixt day and night -   everlasting lightheartédness -   offer me relief fro the sunrays.   A kiss for thee my dear.      Ah! Such delight I sense:   eternally and ne'erendingly;   savour the bitter grapes of life!   A soulsister of thine I am.      Let me openly greet thy kiss;   the most loving and caring bites.      Grant me thineself!,   I bore the woe in my heart   My heart was shatter'd into its tithe,   as I depart embrace me,   save yet are its chambers in flood.   And in paltry time will I re-awake -   I love thee.