In the darkest corner

At the deathly side of night

Still haunted by his past

The Count deplored without respite

Lit by candelabra

Sifting through tomes of the dead

He recited scripts, iniquitous

In wicked tongues and hex

Under light of the moon

There grew a disquieting mood

As mammatus clouds loomed

Clad in the darkest of hues

It seemed the storm had arrived

Bringing the bleak skies to life

Thunderous bellows to provide

A pulsing theme for the night

Dressed in naught but his shame

The count drew blood from a slave

Bled her upon an altar as bait

A gift for the Devils to claim

Should they arise from the depths

Of whichever Hell they transgress

A seeping mist soon plumed dense

And cast the room in darkness

From the shadow grew

A contorted figure of deathly pall

Risen from beyond

To hear the Count’s relentless call

To offer him relief from the grief

That had amassed within

To see Her face one final time

And quench his thirst again…

THE COUNT:

“Come to me Ghoul

Break the stranglehold

The grip of death

Upon Her fragile soul”

Mephisto glared a thousand daggers

At this impending Faust

But spoke in almost sombre tones

When addressing the dishevelled Count

MEPHISTO:

“We will strike a deal

And on my terms

Shall you be damned

But for this price

I’ll grant you any wish

That you demand”

THE COUNT:

“Grant me a glimpse

Upon my bride

Whom wrongly died for sins

Her portrait eyes

Painted black as coal

By those heartless charlatans”

Mephisto’s eyes flickered fires

Burning sulphur filled the air

The Devil’s presence fading

As his Faust wished in despair

THE COUNT:

“Bring Her back to me

And take what I behold

It matters not to me

Let your price for Her be known

What you wish is yours

For Her I’d sell my soul”

And so the pact was sealed

And poured away the shades of life

For the Count who fell to darkness

Now a Devil’s concubine