"Mirror, mirror on the wall. Shouldst not grave pleasures be my all?. For if I shall see thy Will be done. Grant Me the Witchcraft of thy tongue". . Three moondials froze in the shadow of six.
"Oh, sweet Midian. I burn for thee at heart. Don't despair me. Come bare me on wings of graveyard robbed leather. To where pleasure rings deep secrets.
Spawned wanton like blight on an auspicious night. Her eyes betrayed spells of the moon's eerie light. A disquieting gaze forever ghosting far seas. Bled white and dead, Her true mother was fed.
Spawned wanton like blight on an auspicious night. Her eyes betrayed spells of the moon's eerie light. A disquieting gaze forever ghosting far seas. Bled white and dead, Her true mother was fed.
"Mirror, mirror on the wall. Shouldst not grave pleasures be my all?. For if I shall see thy Will be done. Grant Me the Witchcraft of thy tongue". . Three moondials froze in the shadow of six.
From the primeval mass. Let precious chaos vent. Sacred flesh drenched in fornication. Beloved by Set. May the winds gather her together. From the secrets of men.
Biblical choirs soar beyond veiled light. A swansong for ravens trapped flapping in night. . A tragic yet magickal fall from grace. Too awful to taste for the led and the chaste.