Quentin
In the shadows of the night,
a mysterious phantom is seen.
Shoulders broad and strong,
a face from some forbidden dream.
His eyes command his bidding be done
it's no longer a game,
the sound of haunting laughter
and the children are possessed once again.
I shiver from his kisses
but he will be forced out by no one.
He was pleased with our departure,
but now he kills the son.
The sound of his music
penetrates my skin,
if the I-Ching trance fails
Quentin will win.