At birth a witch lain on me monstrous spells and I have trod strange highroads all my days turning my feet to grey, unholy ways I grope for stems of broken asphodels. High on the rims of bare, fiend-haunted fells I follow cloven tracks that lie ablaze and ghosts have led me thorugh the moonlight'a haze to talk with demons in the granite hells I am the singer in the mist lost and alone Seas crash upon dragon-guarded shores bursting in crimson moons of burning spray and iron castles open to me their doors and serpent-women lure with harp and lay the misty waves shake now to phantom oars seek not for me, I sail to meet the day.