The Demon spoke, alone onstage:
“Grove of green, leaf and bough,
path entangled that bars me now.
Somewhere within, the gleam of water
cleansing blood and dreams of slaughter.
The hunger bites, hour by hour,
so easy to call my bloodred power.
But I must hold and I must stand
lest I be lost and never mend.
Faithless, friendless, pernicious I.
Who sheds a tear when Evil dies?
Knee-bend courtesy and lickspittle shame,
I cannot yield my hammer-stone name.
I’ll find the fountain, sacred, pure,
or tear out my heart with claws obdure.
And dying fall on careless earth,
love’s forgotten, I care not its dearth.”