Philosophers of the modern world,
You dare to challenge me
Those who will foil me us such weaponsas I do.
I am the king for those who must kneel.
Out of this darkness such pleasures you feel
I am the serpent out nothing created.
Giving shape to fear through tempation.
Holding a canelabrum
In the uphigh towerchamber
Where the walls are dressed with scarlet velvet
Winds blow from east to west
As the forest weeps.