An Odour of Osirian Bloom In a bed of bewildering passion he lies a night A dark silhouette entering his chamber White shades like a goddess She was filling his soul with lust This master of devil desire Setting his world ablaze Like a burning fire Dwelling in his soul A cold night breeze cast into this room A gust of rare delight A Celtic odour of Osirian bloom Filling his chamber this night She had the grace of four queens shining through her eyes The diamonds of a soul swept in dark With her whispering tongue Seducing him to worlds beyond "Feed with me - dont fear the second coming - you will see what I have seen Walk with me through the gates of this world" Nightfall took his hands! A cold night breeze cast into this room A gust of rare delight A Celtic odour of Osirian bloom Filling his chamber this night