Lo,
Her dance clothed in moonveil,
Adored her skin enchanted pale,
Nox whisperers pray silent sisters,
With bleeding tongues so kissed her,
Asking twice here has eternity gone?
Til singing aeons a song so ever long,
Bereft courted skies kept in solitude,
In due of sects now broken woes wept,
The sept fallen crests bestowed are left,
To mourn one as covetous lords die in jest.
Swaying to and fro the pendulum goes,
Though my throat bleeds as I try to sing,
I can't whisk you up and to heaven away,
Before it's too late to drown in the bliss.
Wherein without worrying wonders welt,
Doom for a gracious melancholic heart felt,
Too forgotten the sacrament bound of hell,
Be so soon to wove tapestries reading spells,
Necromania takes still hold of hearts forlorn.
