Nights came tralling ghost concertos 
Heartstrings a score of skeletal reaper bows 
Playing torture chamber music allegretto 
Conducting over throes trashed to crescendo 

Skinless the dark shall scream 
Hoarse Her symphonies 

Deathmashed as the moon 
That had lifted Her dreams 
And frowned on the winding steps down 
To where the vulgar strayed, 
Taunting sick Her tender prey 
She glided in Her bridal gown 

How sleep the pure 
Desire in Violent Overture 

An emanation of phantom madness 
The Countess beheld in shroud 
By girls bereft of future vows 
Soon to wed in white the frosted ground 
Burning like a brand on the countenance of god 
A yearning took Her hand to His Seraphim, bound 

Deep red hissed the cat whips 
On the whim of ill-will 
Whilst She entranced, nonchalant, abliss 
Flayed further songs of overkill 

How weep the pure 
Desire in Violent overture 

In a crescent-whime cellar of crushed roses 
Pooled blood and broken dolls 
A torchlit shadow theatre souled 
With the echoed cries of lives She stole 

Killing time 
She struck the hours dead 
In Her control 
Thus menopaused 
Her clock of hacked out cunts 
Began to toll 

"Thirteen chimes of ancient strain 
I conjure forth with dirge 
That fills the void with timbred pain 
To fulfil my se**** urge" 

Frights came wailing from the Darkside 
Haunting lipless mouths a fugue of arcane diatribes 
Velvet, their voices coffined Her in slumber 
Bespattered and appeased 
As pregnant skies outside bore thunder 

How sleep the pure 
Desire in violent overture 

As when high winds 
Attune whipped trees 
Her savage nature pitched 
Would once again conduct the pleas 
Of those She loved to agonies 

As if it were 
The first time every night 
That She carved Her seal 
In the flesh of life.