Awake from thy deep and restless sleep
Darkness unveils her nightly hood in holy shrine
Of laborious gloom and blood of keeps
Exalted thy beauty, flesh of religion divine.
Come one, come two, come phantoms of the night
Howling, shrieking, assaulting thy senses
Never more the eternal manifest of light
Thy black soul shall never evoke the Muses.
Rise, dead one! Rise from thy warmth of grave
Diurnal force is but cyclical illusion
And when upon thee stalks a warrior brave
Mangle his heart, sip the red blood fusion.
True darkness awakes like sleeping ghosts
Yet never have thee ever seen one at most.