Black merlot, how you're sinking so low
a star-shaken sunrise, and a dead moon's goodbye.

My sweet fallen angel, with eyes like red berries.

Bury me in your darkness,
clothe me in warm satin sheets.

Your soft cherry cheek-press and evil's temptations.

I had not a choice,
this life is not mine.

Light of weight, glass almost half-full of wine.

A guiding fire,
the brilliance through the trees.

Summon slow, ghostly show . . .

Oh, how you've possessed me, my little merlot.