An Odour Of Osirian Bloom

In a bed of bewildering passion he lies a night

A dark silhouette entering his chamber

White shades like a goddess

She was filling his soul with lust

This master of devil desire

Setting his world ablaze

Like a burning fire

Dwelling in his soul

A cold night breeze cast into this room

A gust of rare delight

A Celtic odour of Osirian bloom

Filling his chamber this night

She had the grace of four queens shining through her eyes

The diamonds of a soul swept in dark

With her whispering tongue

Seducing him to worlds beyond

"Feed with me - don't fear the second coming - you will see what I have seen

Walk with me through the gates of this world"

Nightfall took his hands!

A cold night breeze cast into this room

A gust of rare delight

A Celtic odour of Osirian bloom

Filling his chamber this night