Mr. Harker

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Mr. Harker, young and full of dreams,

wed to a maiden cursed by fate.

Chasing after ghosts with a flickering lantern of gleam,

entombed in the sanctuary that knocked on Hell's gate.

Tangled in the web of shadows,

faced with an icy unrest he would not dare oppose.

His heart couldn't build up a resistance,

to the things that howl in the night.

Engulfed in the pool of abyssal essence,

visions of nightmares taking flight.

Headlong into the devil's mouth,

caged in a prison where blood flows like a river.

Ferried away from his beloved spouse,

a requiem of insanity caused him to shiver.

What sweet music they make,

in the garden of the wretched night-snake.

Within the humble abode of the king of delirious disorder,

his sanity wavers like the breeze of dank winds through fire.

Dreams possessed by visions of the pale warder,

forever cursed by the mark of the vampire.

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