The Elkmother speaks to me She tells me many things Of those without faith Of the soul searching and the destitute Those left scathing in the scuttles of time Born of the heavens yet made to wander here On this infernal plain of Abraham Sitting alone by the fire, a nymph came to me And spoke of her ancestors with a poisoned tongue Now she rests by the pools of Bacchus Indulged in the ecstasy of wine and erotica Lest she will fall to even darker seductions Only her descendants will know of her descent Fortunes gifted by a mass of writhing tendrils Eyes that gaze beyond the furthest horizons I've been there, a lonesome blind pilgrim I've traveled for far too long And as I sit 'neath the firmament I can almost see you dancing with all her daughters In these flames that I will soon fall into Where I will see you again