The Rise of the Pentagram

One dark afternoon like a shadow I fell
Through the rain that fell sick with lament
To this house of incest from when we undressed
Blasphemies against Venus were rent

There were sister removed, her wet body approved
The parade of my heavenly quests
Yet all tongues are not true, some are forked or askew
Like an uncivil serpents at best

For ousted from Eden I fousted all reason
Hooking mouth like Saint Peter Pan
To haunt fairy groves and hot virgin cobes
Wherein the promiscuous one

I elected lovers and rejected others
Mephistresses that don't give a damn
But in those that still do my deep interest grow
The rise of the true Pentagram