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Cardimum
or Tale of the Incubus
by Badley Newscomb
Part 3. The Empty Bed
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A
piercing ululation Rises in the night. From chimneyed rooftops Silhouettes take flight. Before my eyes the moon Is full of bloated scorn. From some unhuman throat A ragged scream is torn! To me, that throat belongs, And lo, the horrid sound Doth through the shadowed streets Resound! Resound! Resound! Oh fool that I have been, And damned fool shall I be! With curse upon my head For all eternity! I loved a mortal maid- Her beauty and her grace, The way she looked into my eyes, And gazed upon my face. When threescore years have passed Rebecca will be gone Yet ever will I long for her And have to carry on... Into the grey abyss, The realm in which I dwell, Soon shall I return, A denizen of hell. But there is no comfort In those reaches to be found, There is no balm to ease The aching of this wound. From the forbidden cup I have drunk sweet wine. Forevermore the knowledge Of loneliness is mine. No longer nourished by Unmet desire's power, My spirit's earthly presence Is lessened by the hour A vestige of lust expired, My pale flesh lingers here Before the empty bed, Transfixed by moonbeam spear. Nightmare with no dreamer, Evil corrupted by good, A cost beyond calculation... Finally understood. And what of fair Rebecca Who soon shall turn to dust? Is she to be faulted For embracing Incubus? Nay! Since in so doing She recognized herself, Embodied in the very flesh That housed this evil elf. That which I had stolen, She merely did reclaim, And if I loved her for it, Then I accept the blame. Like a shipwrecked sailor Drinking water from the sea, Rebecca found her thirst Intensified by me. Beneath the full moon's glowing Her passion reached its peak, When in a human lover, She found what she did seek. The surcease of her longing, The meeting of her need, And as her tide is ebbing, My power doth recede. How like that lunar orb, Which in a fortnight's time From invisibility Swells unto its prime. So too, my hungry spirit, Feeding, coalesced Into this manlike form Upon Rebecca's breast. But the moon in waning Doth take a fortnight too, Yet when this eve is over, My sojourn here is through. Ten times a thousand maidens This demon knew before, And in the course of time Ten times ten thousand more. Many of these lovelies Sensuous and fair, Some with claret lips, Some with ebon hair- Traits which in Rebecca I found were my delight, Henceforth will serve to sadden This creature of the night. But in this lonely chamber, Disintegrating fast, There is a final question I ask myself at last... With all that lies before me, The loneliness and pain, What if I were given The chance to love again? Would I still love Rebecca If change my fate I could? And strange enough the answer, For yes, indeed I would. |
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FIN
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