"Stay with me, Harry. Please. Don't go."

I return later, and untie his hands, their nerves and veins swollen up. I restore sight to his haggard eyes, once again starting to lap up his tears and his blood.

O Knight of dark weapons
Where are you going through the impure darkness
With the bloody sword in hand?
Why do your burning eyes shine
And the moans in your trembling lips
Spread fire from your heart?

"Harry, forgive me."

O Knight, who are you? The remorse?
You lean on the back of your courser...*
And gallop through the valley...
Oh! Don't you hear the skulls
Crying and waking the dust of the road,
And the ghost biting your feet?

Is it a delirium of my sick reason?

Because I suffer just as much as my victim. Forgive me.

Where are you going through the impure darkness,
O Knight of dark weapons,
Emaciated as the dead in his tomb?
You hear... In the long mountain
Does an uproar follow your gallop?
And does vengeful thunder resound?

I want us to be intertwined for eternity: to form but a single being, my mouth glued to your mouth.

O Knight, who are you? What mystery,
Who forces you to wander
Through the haunted night of the kingdom of death?

Then you will rend me with your teeth and your nails. I will adorn my body with perfumed garlands for that expiatory holocaust; and we will both suffer. I will rend you, and you will rend me, my mouth glued to your mouth. O Harry, your eyes so sweet, won't you do what I tell you? I want you to do it, so you will ease my conscience.

Nonetheless a voice echoes through the halls...

I am the dream of your hope.
Your fever that never abates,
The delirium that will be your death.

The End

* In case you can't find it in your dictionary, courser = charger, a fast horse