The Imperfect Vision (Enochian Crescent)

Who are you That rides my back at the break of dawn Whispering too fast and too feverish Words for me to understand their meaning As swiftly as you appear Daemon of the morning, you are gone Leaving only unsetteled warnings And the unpleasantless of being Spiritually ran through Who are you That lurks over my shoulder past midnight Quick movements in the mirror, shimmering Cold stare boring through my spine Somaesthesia The presence of a ghastly sprite Or another undead yet living thing It is enough, here I draw the line Be banished hereafter and hitherto Who are you The serpent I caught in my dreams On the pitch black attic of the skryers mansion You made known my true name threefold And the troubles ahead Lest my habits are carried to extremes Raced unwittingly towards ademption Of virtues we cannot alone uphold This transmutation, who are you?