A conception pathetic

He beckons from across the languid room
Eyes wild, like oceans caught up and glittering.
Everything 'comes all dark, save those embers that burn right through my quaking soul!
The old man is frightened and waiting to die. She looks on from her Lunar perch and laughs: "One sip from this cup of steaming wine, and then you dream!"
No more, now is night. Poison!
They all sing to me, stars in their brightness… and young.
Singing in golden cages rough-hewn by some dead race.
I saw in one room a CANDLE, and in another a votive WREATH.
Which shall crucify me?
Which shall resurrect me?
Rain from her mouth doth heal.
Let it run through me!
I kiss her silken lips and breasts that heave with passion e'er growing!
We couched below the flowers dead, and gave new life to them.
No! Not in this place.
By starlight He'll come to devour us all!
Through terrors, He'll rise to hurt us!