Today was spent in languor
Drifting through the fold
As midsummer vent its clamour
In cobbled streets a thousandfold
I bore cruelty from the Sun
The jewellery that it hung
About me, God it stung
Like life’s betrayal
Now shadows lengthening
Hear the nightside sing
The promise of delightful things to come
Wester vespertine
When the Sun is in decline
Reddened skies underlined in purple
Exemplify cries, goodbyes are verbal
And bats carouse around the tree line
Daylight bows out, free and feline
Dusk comes so sublime
So wester vespertine
Feel the rush of power this magickal hour
The heavens blaze, their flames devour
The smoke of ruins black against
A bled horizon, mystic, incensed
Nightfall is dressed in fantasy
Ethereal, the end of day enthralls
Voyeurs watching from the stalls
It enfolds the drear and drab
Lifts our hearts to sheer romantic
Pyromantic, necromantic heights
Of bright sensation
Feel the rush of power this magickal hour
The heavens blaze, the angels cower
Wisps of sulphur at my lips
The abyss at kissed fingertip
Nightfall is blessed with majesty
This night will see indictment
For my needs extol
The virtues of excitement
This soul reigns uncontrolled
Sweet scents, the vents of mother earth
Have lent to my rebirth
Her perfume is perverse
And that’s the way I like it
Bethlem is opening
Her terrifying wings
The promise of its frightful things to sperse
And hesperus will shine
Out foremost as stars climb
Dusk comes so sublime
So wester vespertine
Feel the rush of power this magickal hour
The Moon invades the vestal bower
Gas lamps flicker in devotion
Like fireflies on an iron ocean
Nightfall is best left to telestic needs
Crepuscular
This theatre is spurred
To drive the painted nails home
And let man’s blithe desires roam
About the city lit to please
The pretty bits this August eve
Revive our sore and tortured souls
Revive my mortared soul
Toward the end
Toward the splendour
Like lot, the host gives up its ghosts
His gorgeous daughters now surrender
Lammas glamour
Hammered in the dying light
Like a glowing hot sabre set to clangour on the anvil
We’ll bang destiny to rights now
Wester, vespertine
This is our time to taste
To chase, to embrace, to lay waste to the vine
The cup of fornication is a decadent red wine
Wester, vespertine
When the Sun is in decline
Reddened skies underlined in purple
Exemplify cries, goodbyes are verbal
And bats carouse about the tree line
Daylight bows out, free and feline
And dusk comes so sublime
So western vespertine