[Gilles]   'Most human kind can stop the will of heaven from being asserted'      Worming through the mark   Of Ezekiel and Mark   Through the chapters of Honorius   Gilles, as in a trance   Screwed the pages up and danced   Courting something vainly glorious      He walked he gravest night   That decrepit final juncture   Of doom and negativity   Reeking of death   And the gloom of Stygian light      When suddenly, the faintest whisper!   A curtain opened in a painted vista   Moonbeams swept into his dream...   Balsamic and anathema      Balsamic and anathema      Prelati full of stars   Magical, ecstatic stars   That sparkled, no debacle sought to douse   His fiery omnipresence   Hissed at heaven, evanescent   He was there to thwart the burning of his Faust      The gates were prised, the phantom horses   Snorted, restless to be gone   With enchantment's eyes upon the door, he cried-   'Come with me now!'      Gilles balked, the thought of life   Accused and pursued   And overridden by morbidity   Saddened his breath   For those destined for his knife      Then suddenly - the strangest feeling   One that left the angels reeling   Atonement crept into his midst   Balsamic and anathema      Balsamic and anathema      Prelati, full of stars   This abductor of his heart   Promised him horizons free of pain   But all the grand designs   Magic sings and midnight wines   In the dream-world couldn't hope to swerve his aim      He would stay and face his slayers   Cardinals and courtroom players   Whilst Prelati must now flee before   The pure and azure dawn...      The gates were wide, the phantom horses   Snorted, restless to be gone   With enchantment's eyes upon the door   Once more he cried   'Come with me now!'      Prelati full of stars   Tried to pull him from the dance   Summoning his Barron to perform   But as the Demon rose   In sweet miracles of prose   And propaganda, came a proper bible storm      Lightning - grinning, froze   On this murder-site of crows   And from the scattered ashes stepped a sylph   The maiden Joan of Arc   Crept more beautiful and dark   A paradise, a cradle free of filth      She was chaste beyond all graces   The face of faith illuminated   More precious than Prelati's spell   A Goddess in a dream...      And trembling in her arm   Her eyes a thousand golden psalms   That glittered as on Christmas night   He wept like Hallowe'en      He held the scene, the poignant gleam   Of peace and great serenity   Close to his heart, her parting kiss   He slept to wake released in bliss