Raven-haired, and of my darkest dreams
|
Her pale touch is like the Winter's cold.
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Like the forest, she obsessed my soul
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...and her grip will not let go.
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And in her heart flows immortality,
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for she is of Lamia blood.
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And through my dreams she came
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to my soul for thy blood (essence) summoned her name.
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In rapture I embrace the bliss
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of sins of the flesh
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Immortal, I drank from her soul,
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from her very veins.
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I indulge in the sins of lust.
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And the shadows dance, to the chaos of her trance
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As the flames within her showed her fire.
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Wicked are her ways, of giving to thee, the ecstasy I desire.
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And Cursed is her Kiss that is forever more
|
for it's aftertaste is bitterness.
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|
-----------------
|
Her Cursed Kiss
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| Crimson Moon |
