"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.
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.
Forgive the day's. Last serenades. Her skies they bruise like Nordic women. Deep crimson stains. That Death would claim. His robes of office swim in. .
I pace, alone. In a place for the dead. Overcome by woe. And here, I've grown. So fond of dread. That I swear it's heaven. . Oh sweet Mary,. Dressed in gray.
A voyeur in league with the great thief night. In an overthrow of women light. Slid in to rob the prayers. She whispered to the air with thin deliberation.
Sunset, expect. This to be your last with Our vast return. As Death is set. At three sixes where hill-beacons burn. . Darkness, undress. Your descending skirts yield a thirsting altar.
Sunset, expect. This to be your last with Our vast return. As Death is set. At three sixes where hill-beacons burn. . Darkness, undress. Your descending skirts yield a thirsting altar.
"Archangel, Dark Angel. Lend me thy light. Through death's veil. Till we have Heaven in sight!". . "Archangel, Dark Angel. Lend me thy light. Through death's veil.
Glory and praise to thee in all the steeps. Of Heaven where thou didst reign, and in the deeps. Of Hell where fallen thy dream, silently.. . Related. .
Through arcades where shimmering snowfall. Lay in state with the sad and damned. A rent lament barely flung above a whisper. Drew Me like a ghost to the haunts of Man.
Nightfall, in thrall. I call her beauty to me. Whose ebon-lidded eyes excite. Shadows to wander through me. Whose kiss glittered with sleep. Is a thief come after dark.
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Led to the river. Midsummer I wave. A 'V' of black swans. On with hope to the grave. . And through red September. When skies fire-paved. I begged you appear.
Lead to the river. Midsummer, I waved. A ?V? of black swans. On with hope to the grave. All through Red September. With skies fire-paved. I begged you appear.
Mother of abominations. Our Lady Overkill. Smothering the congregation. Grips the cosmic wheel. A lover of acceleration. No mercy or brakes applied. I see dead stars collide.
Dim the lights, wrong the rites. Toss the puerile cross away. We are gashing from a venomous womb. Burning bright, dead of night. Pyres stain a milky way.
Led to other worlds. By the girls she curled within. I took their skins to see her. Be my mannequin. . Be my mannequin. I cannot remember. How it was that we first met.
I was born with a birthmark of cinders. Debris cast from the stars and mother. A ring of bright slaughter, I spat in the waters. Of life that ran slick from the stab wounds in her.
The Moon, she hangs like a cruel portrait. Soft winds whisper the bidding of trees. As this tragedy starts with a shattered glass heart. And the Midnightmare trampling of dreams.