Lost to Night, The Third Evening: ACT III
“Listen to them, the children of the night. What music they make!”
Journal, Case File Number 39810290
I drifted off again.
I’m losing time. There was a time in my life where waking up in a strange new place would be exciting, and now…well, I haven’t seen another soul in so long, I’m too terrified to even ask any more questions.
I’m on a reclining couch, and even in the dim blue twilight, it’s blood red and older than memory. I even suppose it’s beautiful, but that’s an idle thought.
As I sit up, I’m aware of two things: it’s well into the evening, and I’m in an opera box in the palace with the portraits.
I’ve never been in an opera box. And I’ve never been in this room, either.
The sound of the waves and wings has gone. I can only hear stillness. I think I hear a wolf howl, but that’s even more ridiculous. No one has seen a wolf since…do you know, I can’t recall?
If I’m honest, I’m not even sure how I would know what a wolf sounds like.
Where am I?
Journal, Case File Number 39810290
I drifted off again.
I’m losing time. There was a time in my life where waking up in a strange new place would be exciting, and now…well, I haven’t seen another soul in so long, I’m too terrified to even ask any more questions.
I’m on a reclining couch, and even in the dim blue twilight, it’s blood red and older than memory. I even suppose it’s beautiful, but that’s an idle thought.
As I sit up, I’m aware of two things: it’s well into the evening, and I’m in an opera box in the palace with the portraits.
I’ve never been in an opera box. And I’ve never been in this room, either.
The sound of the waves and wings has gone. I can only hear stillness. I think I hear a wolf howl, but that’s even more ridiculous. No one has seen a wolf since…do you know, I can’t recall?
If I’m honest, I’m not even sure how I would know what a wolf sounds like.
Where am I?
Lucy
The lights of London are in the wrong direction
A trick of the moonlight
Gliding across the graves, my mouth is hungry for you
Can you keep a secret?
It’s my beginning
The bed was empty
The tomb was empty
I’m counting on your discretion
Lying alone, my lips are red
Do you suppose I’m beautiful
A wanton smile, redder than before
In the brilliant moonlight, silvered sound
Ruby on pearl, languorous ecstasy
Now I love alone in my churchyard
Do you suppose my sweetness turned to heartless cruelty?
The bed was empty
The tomb was empty
I’m counting on your discretion
Lying alone, my lips are red
Do you suppose I’m beautiful
A wanton smile, redder than before
The bed was empty
The tomb was empty
I’m counting on your discretion
Lethargy is creeping over me
I lay awhile but cannot get to sleep
So I look out of the window
White mist creeping slowly, imperceptibly
The bed was empty
The tomb was empty
I’m counting on your discretion
Lying alone, my lips are red
Do you suppose I’m beautiful
A wanton smile, redder than before
The bed was empty
The tomb was empty
I’m counting on your discretion
Lying alone, my lips are red
Do you suppose I’m beautiful
A wanton smile, redder than before
Suddenly the horror burst upon me
Two red eyes like fire burning
Through the whirling mist and in the moonlight
In my dream I must have fainted
The bed was empty
The tomb was empty
I’m counting on your discretion
Lying alone, my lips are red
Do you suppose I’m beautiful
A wanton smile, redder than before
Howling In The Moonlight
A wild howling began
A long agonized wail
As if from fear
Borne on the wind
Sighed softly through the pass
The blue flame flickers
A ghostly flicker
A living ring of terror
Silent in the moonlight
The living ring of terror
Now howling in the moonlight
Listen to the rising wind
It moans and whistles through the rocks
A living ring of terror
Silent in the moonlight
The living ring of terror
Now howling in the moonlight
One hundred times more terrible
In grim silence than even when they howled
A living ring of terror
Silent in the moonlight
The living ring of terror
Now howling in the moonlight
A wild howling began
A long agonized wail
As if from fear
Borne on the wind
Sighed softly through the pass
The wolves are too close
White teeth, red tongue
A living ring of terror
Silent in the moonlight
The living ring of terror
Now howling in the moonlight
Howling In The Moonlight
A wild howling began
A long agonized wail
As if from fear
Borne on the wind
Sighed softly through the pass
The blue flame flickers
A ghostly flicker
A living ring of terror
Silent in the moonlight
The living ring of terror
Now howling in the moonlight
Listen to the rising wind
It moans and whistles through the rocks
A living ring of terror
Silent in the moonlight
The living ring of terror
Now howling in the moonlight
One hundred times more terrible
In grim silence than even when they howled
A living ring of terror
Silent in the moonlight
The living ring of terror
Now howling in the moonlight
A wild howling began
A long agonized wail
As if from fear
Borne on the wind
Sighed softly through the pass
The wolves are too close
White teeth, red tongue
A living ring of terror
Silent in the moonlight
The living ring of terror
Now howling in the moonlight
VALENTINE
for her this rhyme is penned, Whose luminOus eyes,
brightly expressive as the twins of Loeda,
shall Find her own swEet name, that, nestling lies
upon the page, enwrappeD frOm every reader.
search narrowly The lines!—they hold a treasure
divine—a talisman—an amulet that must be worn at heart.
searCh well the measure— the wOrds—the syllables! do not forget
the trivialest point, or you May lose your /LabOR!
and yet therE is in this no gordian knot
which one might not undo without a sabre