You Can Be My Byron

Let me be your Augusta Leigh
Your Mary Godwin Shelley
I will drag you down into the darkness
I will eat you in its belly
Come my beautiful lover-child
All innocence, into this Wilde.

In the case of angels
I would call on Lilith's hand
She who was made fallen
Tess would understand
That all men are heaven-sent,
And demon-marred
But it is I who will know you
For what you are

So in the midnight profanity
Will you listen to me?
Or will you fall to the vivid siren
Or the faithless harpy?
I will guide you through the coffins of Whitman
And the tombstones of October
Only don't forget me
As we lay on the marble floor

You will not know of what I speak
And it is not love
You cannot see what it is I seek
In the raven's wings,
The mourning of the dove
And when you have fallen
As I have fallen
Into this endless menagerie of souls
It will be better
But it will also be cold
I can comfort you
with my scarlet letter
Or even with lies
Many times retold.