Glory and praise to Satan, where you reigned
In Heaven, and in depths of Hell the same,
Where now you dream in silent reverie!
And may my soul take rest beneath the Tree
Of Knowledge with you, when above your head
Like a new Temple, those great branches spread!
— Litanies of Satan, by Charles Baudelaire
I’m writing a poem about an incubus attacking a sleeping man, and it’s strangely enjoyable.
