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Fountains of blood-i drink your pus

To worship the beast i bath in your guts

Cracking your ribs, eating your tits

Sucking your slime-it tastes divine

Eating your flesh improves my breath

The blood on my chest satan blessed

With shreds of your skin i cover my face

Postmortal desire-satan i praise

In the greenest of our valleys

By good angels tenanted,

Once a fair and stately palace-

Radiant palace-reared its head

In the monarch thoughts dominion-

It stood there:

Never seraph spread a pinion

Over fabric half so fair!

Banners yellow, glorious, golden,

On its roof did float and flow,

(this all this-was in the olden

Time long ago;)

And every gentle air that dallied

In that sweet day,

Along the ramparts plumed and pallid,

A winged odour went away

Wanderers in that happy valley

Through two luminous windows, saw

Spirits moving musically

To a lute's well tuned law,

Round about a throne were, sitting

Porphyrogene,

In state his glory well-befitting,

The ruler of the realm was seen

And all with pearl and ruby glowing

Was the fair palace door,

Through which came flowing, flowing, flowing,

And sparkling evermore,

A troop of echoes, who's sweet duty

Was but to sing,

The voices of surpassing beauty,

The wit and wisdom of their

But evil things in robes of sorrow,

Assailed the monarch's high estate:

Ah let us mourn- for never morrow

Shall down upon him desolate!

And about his home the glory

That blushed and bloomed

Is but a dim- remembered story

Of the old time entombed

And travellers, now, within that valley,

Through the red- litten windows, see

Vast forms, that move fantastically

To a discordant melody;

While, like a ghastly rapid river,

Through the pail door

A hideous throng rush out for ever,

And laugh-but smile no more