The function of men is to live, not to exist I shall not waste my days prolonging them I Shall Use My Time All of our lives that have gone before All to come after it-- so we ignore So we make perfect the present, condense Thoughts and feeling, soul and sense A rage of rapture against the dying of light Let our whirring dances keep the dark at bay
A merging moment, this final absolution A heretic's antinomy to the ending of days The moment eternal, just that and no more When ecstasy's utmost we clutch at the core Our shadows cast will bring the tiding This is our ending, this is where it starts Our coven's summer solstice A welcoming omen of beating hearts