As wolves or bats

Through forests or the heights

Fragmented into rats

Causing loathing and fright



Ours are the late hours

Ours are the dark powers

By a gaze of ours

Any mortal cowers



In the shape of beast

With enhanced might

In the cloak of mist

Through the ether of night



Ours are the late hours

Ours are the dark powers

By a kiss of ours

The blood of mortals showers



Cold and pale is our face

White as moonlight

But tight is our embrace

And sharp is our bite



Beyond god's grace

Deprived of the sun's sight

While we feed on their race

We shall avoid the scythe



Old

Yet preserved in eternal youth...

Cold

Yet how easily we do seduce...

Bold

Though ever absent is our pulse...



Those two in the neck

Are points of no coming back...



Ours are the late hours

Ours are the dark powers

Among the withering flowers

Rise our ivory towers