As The Crow Flies

When night air smells of burning ozone

Hints of the open gates of sin’s own time

While jagged scars of lighting doth strike

Remember I once claimed thee to be mine

When thou hear a shape-shifted raven

Clinging to the branch of a dead oak tree

Ebon black soul screeching your spirit name

Calling come, come quick, and be with me

While black spells and demonic potions

Simmer in broth to suit even Dante’s taste

Come my Mistress, leave thy bonds and fly

For there is so little time left for us to waste

Morning sun will bring death to our pairing

That we willingly bartered our souls to share

Return, return to thy mortal shrine of sanity

But know…when thou hear the raven

…once more thou shalt hasten to be here!