Legends and tales from days gone by, tell of musings and dreams usually unseen by eye.
Of something that visits, moving ever near.
As daylight dims and evening draws its sway, this unseen spectre comes your way.
Seldom is this sensual spirit seen, not man nor beast yet something in between.
As he approaches determined in his desire, with sexual thoughts and impetuous does he conspire.
For that which presses as you sleep, disturbing the counting of those sheep.
Its he the one that fills you full of lust, not imagined or dream, the Incubus!