As long as subsists the muse,
I shall continue to write,
Whatever the ploy, whatever the ruse,
Using emotions to blow the fuse.

Enthrall you with this current,
Shock you with this electricity;
With my thoughts, with my pen,
Tottering on the edge of audacity.

Men may be killed, children may die,
And in castles, ghosts may survive,
All this I employ and I try,
To make you shriek, to make you cry.