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The Doctor hath reaped a spoil of his witchcraft

A beauty, red-haired, in a gown of silk stitch

Drunk at twilight, consequence of much ale

He fills her ear, with a twisted little tale

She attends, she absorbs, she begins to understand

Faustus' riches not honest in work

Satanic undertones seep in through his words

Jealous of his power, her gown slips down

Seductiveness crowns the victor this round

Forbidden in secrecy, Mephistopheles shall come in haste

Craving to taste love again

Through selfish intentions you signed a deed

To never tell a soul, even if you plead

End her as she sleeps, no one will know

You must do as I bid, make sure it is so

To fire I return, kill or your soul too shall burn

Killing to feel free again

There she lay bear

Draped in the absence of care

Her Scarlet hair

Awning her chest

So longingly did Faustus stare

Her hoary white neck wore the Physicians gripped hands

Gripping so tight, her mouth poured with crimson sacrifice

Guilt swept over Faust, tears streamed down to mix with her blood

There she lay bear

Draped in the absence of care

Her Scarlet hair

Awning her chest

So longingly did Faustus stare

“Mephistopheles, give me what I seek - sweet grapes in the dead of winter, a pleasure not of this time. I summon an audience with Alexander the Great, the Lord of Asia. I prescribe to bring forth his Paramour. I’d heed caution, I shall not be taken a fool for spirits or necromancy. I command to see them both, and to receive felicity that shall be bequeathed unto me from subject’s neck, or I shall curse the seven planets, the firmament and the Empyreal Heaven.”