My wrathful cries of anguish
Filled that dismal night
I tore at my flesh and drank my crimson tears
When I glanced up
Appearing in a myriad of stars
The illustrious archangel Gabriel shimmered
Like the moon in my eyes
Bringing mercy even to the damned
But why? Why?
He spoke of a path
The path of Golconda
From which my children could once again
Inhabit the light
Without another word, he disappeared
And I conceived
I had awakened at last
Then the bright-eyed demoness
Taught me how to hide from the eyes
Of those who dare to hunt us
How to command obedience
And demand respect
Soon I found myself attaining (yet) greater powers
I could alter forms, control all beasts and perceive
Beyond sight
Eventually I had to abandon Lilith
And flee from the barren lands of Nod
Set out to procreate my progeny
Caine's children shall inherit the night
Part IV: zillah and the crone
Of all my children, none so beloved
My sweet Zillah, none so desired
Her tender skin, her blood so saccharine
I was mesmerized by her enchanting eyes
But she would turn from me, she had no love to me
Nothing I'd provide could keep her satisfied
So I took to roam the wilderness alone
Amid the whispering trees, a wrinkled crone I did see
Crone: 'My spell can make thee win her heart
Drink of my blood then we'll start'
