Requital Darkly Spent (virelai ancien)

Written by: Claire de la Grange

Alone upon a foggy night, 
With waxing moon a ghostly light, 
Resounded wings.
My mind contrived a murders flight, 
While lack of cawing did rewrite, 
Infernal things.
Resigned to capture budding fright; 
I drew the curtains snugly tight; 
My nerves hairsprings.
And though a superstitious rite; 
I wore a cross to non-invite, 
Undead darklings.

The third hour rings! 
And witchly brings, 
A inly fright on stealthy feet.
My courage swings,
As terror clings,
To fragile faiths undone belief.
And thin as strings, 
My reasoning’s, 
Assure a vampire’s kiss is sweet.
Unvoiced inklings,
Entrée stranglings,
Awaits your breathless Marguerite.

Across the floor without a creak, 
Asquint, I see a shadow creep, 
Phantasmaly.
Then lips are ice against my cheek, 
A summer ice that burned like heat, 
So wickedly.
And when she drove her daggers deep,
I begged her end my mortal keep,
And boundary.
With aching heart at final beat,
She drank the last of my conceit,
And murdered me.

Immortal is my Antoinette,
My slayer whom shall not forget,
That foggy night.
A Mephistophelean vignette,
Requital casts my silhouette,
In deaths twilight.
To scorn a woman fosters debt,
My debtor e'er bleeds regret
A bloodless white.
Alas she wishes she did beget,
A lover on the night we met,
To my delight.