(WARNING: This post is very different from my others and contains much inspiration from a darker perspective. It is of course not mean to be taken literally.)
The finest blend of sulfur rests in her mouth
She is made of both silver and gold
Maiden of anemia with foul intention
The woman not young nor old
Through thickets of thorn and bestial rage
Limping one- leggeds return to their grave
Surreal it is to be alive
When death feels the same
She is a sillhouette in satin, a fiend of my defense
Shadowed by intrigue with fatal intent
She bats her eyes unto animated things
I feel rest's call when I hear her sing
Oh how exotic she is beneath funeral shroud
A non-existent death whereever we're found
I dream of her immeasurable passion
Her secrets unbound
The skeleton of lust has become once again
Speaking by action to bring forth the end
She is cadaverous and cold
Her winds are of razors
To die with her mystery so subtle yet bold
The path to her love is through serpents and worms
A cold corpse I am without regret or care
Her roads are forsaken yet more secrets to learn
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