Come, bestow in me thy presence,
in the low, and so above,
come, unearth thy earthly essence
in this thing, alas, called love,
I am but a smithereen -
come, smitter me with wings unseen.

Alas, thine is my only pleasure
through the veils of failures poised
and my only earthly treasure
in this wordless wisdom voiced
by the fangs of angelwings
unfolding in these untold things.

Come, not as a fairytale
but with glamorous gleaming glands
tied to thy unholy tail
longing tales of withered hands
withheld in this wanderer weary -
come to me, my poisonfairy.

I am but a shadow sickening
all the light of yesteryears
shunning in your shorelights flickering
by the ocean of my fears,
come, obtain my stains oblivious
in thy fleeing flood mischievous.
I had but one drowsing dream -
to die inside thy earthly beam.