Let's go to where the ivy grows
with poison leaves strung high,
constricting round your pailing neck
as you look to the sky.

I'll take you where the cold bones lay,
alone but haunted still,
kept company by maggot's breath;
across their graves you'll spill.

Come to where the voices ring,
where moaning is the norm.
Whispers of your death and worse
drench you in Dark's downpour.

Do lie with me my helpless pet.
I crave your skins light touch.
The blanket of your warmth awaits.
You'll writhe within my clutch.

Bleed to me my fading feast,
give me what you hold dear.
I'll take if you fail to obey,
I sense your beating fear.

Call to them, this one last time,
I want to hear you scream.
I am you now my bloody heart
and you are but a dream.