When demons dance in moonlight

Imagine my love, how sweet it would be,
if our demons danced in moonlights eyes.
Imagine my dear, what ecstacy we would feed,
our poor deprived souls, from the palms of our demons' hands.
Ah my sweet, how tantalisingly gay the nights would be,
locked in a primal embrace.

Let us dance dear one, beneath the moonlight,
with more than our souls bared.
Feed your dying demons darling,
with the poisoned nectar of my seductive song.
Starve not your mind, of taboo dreams, for those my dear,
are the sweetest of fruits.

Tonight my muse, your demons may dance, and toy with me as they choose.