A Raven's Heart

A fettered mind, unfettered feet below,
In the pillowy softness of the snow.
The wind tugs at my blond hair, lightly in tow,
Tortured skies yield to the moon's effervescent glow.

A Raven's heart is such that few can ever know,
Except the man with the soul of the Crow.
With his magical spirit he can bind and sow,
The seed in a garden for a union to grow.

Anne Varnes

You, Whom I Worship...

You, whom I worship as night's firmament,
Urn of sorrow, beatiful and silent;
I love you more, because you turn away from me
Adorning night, but, with large irony
Rather increase the absolute blue space
Which alienates the sky from my embrace.

I leap to your attack, climb in assault
Like corpseworms feeding nimbly in the vault,
And cherish you, relentless, cruel beast
Till that last coldness which delights me best.