The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

A fool there was and he made his prayer

To a rag and a bone and a hank of hair,

But the fool he called her his lady fair



Oh, the years we waste and the tears we waste,

And the work of our head and hand

Belong to the women who did not know

And did not understand!



A fool there was and his goods he spent,

Hounor and faith and a sure intent

But a fool must follow his natural bent

Lord Loss sows all the sorrows of the world

Lord Loss seeds the grief-starched trees





In the center of the web, lowly Lord Loss Bows his head





Mangled hands, naked eyes

Fanged snakes his soul line

Curled inside like textured sin

Bloody, curdled sheets for skin





In the center of the web, vile Lord Loss torments the dead





Over strands of red, Lord Loss crawls

Dispensing pain, despising all

Shuns friends, nurtures foes

Ravages hope, breeds woe

Drinks moons, devours suns

Twrils his thumbs till the reaper comes





In the center of the web, lush Lord Loss is all that's left